Chapter One
On ecru initialed paper,
the understanding was brutally clear … You’re to be blindfolded and
waiting on your knees for your master. I reread it a couple of times, my
hands shaking with both fear of the unknown and the excitement of being
delivered to the brink of aching pleasure. Man, I was fucked!
I folded the note in half,
perfectly seaming the edges while I wondered if I had bitten off more than I
could chew. The thoughts swirled cyclonically in my head, causing a fluttering
in my stomach to mount to vomit worthy levels, as I picked up the Hermes scarf.
I gently ran it along my cheek before breathing in his alpha scent. Him.
My eyes closed on their own accord, heart beating in concert with my
pussy. My clit charged and already
primed with wetness. My inner demon-ess was scratching the surface of my
psyche, relentlessly thrashing against its confinement.
Twirling around in a sexual
dreamlike state, my eyes took in floor-to-ceiling windows, the lush, red velvet
drapes pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my hand over my heart to keep the
fucker in there. Was he planning to take me in the open—voyeur delight? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then
again, this was about surrendering. A place my control had no say. On the left
was a free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against it. Chrystal decanters lined the top. Amber colored
courage called out to my parched throat, begging, needing something to quell
the tremors that plagued my body. I couldn’t. Could I? Or was that breaking the rules? I couldn’t
afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted please him, to hand over the
keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I needed to take purchase of the
prime piece of real-estate—his heart. Old demons plagued my thoughts with their
clever mind tricks, fighting their way to the surface—sneering that I would
lose the man I’d come to love because of my deceitful heart. The mother of all
motherfucking Karma was going to bite my ass—hard. I needed to lock these
incessant, nauseating thoughts where they belonged—behind a door that had no
moral key and slam it shut.
Looking to the left, I saw
that a fire raged stunningly in a pastoral styled fireplace. Above, an erotic
portrait of Abel. It was done in simple black and white. In one hand, he held a
set of handcuffs. In the other, a red scarf—the exact red scarf I now held in
my hand. Crackling embers radiated warmth to nurture my chilled body. Perfect
spot! Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, I let them both pool at my feet. I then
took off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin, helping gentle the goose
bumps that stepped forward across my body. Double-knotting the scarf around my
head, I lowered to my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I sent a silent
thanks upward. God had no place here today. Today, I would be rejoicing,
reveling, and partaking in rituals practiced by heathens. Tempering my
breathing … Namaste. A shiver redirected my attention to the door as I
searched my mind to identify its source. The squeak of the door knob stopped
all thought process—all thinking. His
innate maleness seeped into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha
scent—marking my heart as his. Instantly, my body recognized him. An
unwilling groan escaped, making my nether region clench in anticipation. He
chuckled.
"Very good. I see you
followed my directions flawlessly. I see that beautiful pussy is shaved bare
for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you will see how much very shortly. But, are
you ready for your master? If I part
your folds will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm breath tickled my
ear.
My mouth opened and closed
a few times like a fish out of water, until I finally croaked out, "Um,
yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.” Christ,
why am I reduced to a stuttering adolescent? He's fucking dangerous and hot,
that's why! Steeling myself, I needed to woman the fuck up and show him who I
am.
Palming my chin, he spoke
gruffly, “Love, when we’re in this setting, I am your God, bringer of pleasure
and pain.” He released me, clearly awaiting a response of praise.
“Yes, Sir. I understand
perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled, knowing the moment he stepped away.
The ring of the crystal decanter signaled loudly in the air. Rolling shudders
had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by at a snail’s pace and I wanted to rip
my hair out. My frustration grew as he took his time, leaving me in a
vulnerable position. He swallowed his drink. Padding back over in my direction,
he brought that delicious signature scent of his my way. It smelled of musk and something wild I
couldn’t put my finger on.
“I’m going to taste you
now,” he quantified. What? Christ on a motherfuckin’ cross! Two thick
fingers teased my clit, round and round, spreading my silky juices along my
seam, preparing me for his invasion. I held my breath. What else could I do?
“You smell like you want to
be fucked.” He smiled appreciatively. “Breathe, Gia. Your God would like to sample
you. I want to commit your taste to memory. Savor you on my tongue. Swallow
your goodness,” he rasped, leaning into my ear. I wanted to scream just do
it already. His scruffy beard ran along my face, leaving his mouth against
my ear. Every breath, every heartbeat, every swallow was mine. I had a front
row seat to an erotic movie that I starred in.
Holding my shoulders firmly
with his left hand, he roughly entered my opening. One breath in, one long
breath out. With precision, he
inserted two fingers inside me, keeping his thumb on my trigger. I ground
against his palm.
“You will not come. Yet.
Stay still or I’ll stop,” he affirmed.
Well, that did it! I needed release and I needed it now. Fuck.
Squeezing my eyes tightly, I was thankful for the blindfold. He had to see how
challenging this was for me. With a final, stretching thrust, he vacated my
pussy. The scent of my juices permeated the air, releasing another gush of
wetness. His sucking sound ended with a loud pop, followed by a growl of
approval.
“Taste.” He fisted my hair,
driving his fingers into my open mouth.
“Taste how sweet your pussy
is?” he queried. I had the perfect opportunity to bring him to his knees. My
tongue languidly snaked its way around his fingers, sucking greedily any
remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass resounding pop. Umm… I purred my
contentment.
A seismic roar rumbled its
way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he was affected. Breaking dominate control
momentarily, he lunged forward and fisted my hair, his tongue forcing my mouth
open. Damn this Dom! My lungs fought for air. My hands braced against
his muscled chest, alive with the vibrations from the beast tethered
within—Abel. Dizziness threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I
took a breath. Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up. Apparently,
my survival was to be damned. My brain had only registered oxygen. Now I needed
to return his kiss. My hands found their way up his neck into his thick
hair. Grabbing a fistful of it, I
pulled. He answered my call with his masterful tongue and gnashing teeth.
Needing his cock in my pussy now, I reached for it, feeling its thick
steeliness through his jeans. He gently removed my hands. Disappointed, I lowered my head, taking the
opportunity to nourish my blood with oxygen. He forced my hands behind my back.
I adjusted my position on the floor with the balls of my feet to steady myself.
“You have to earn that,
babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet. And he has a bigger ego than I do.” He
chuckled as he stood up, leaving me again. Was he serious? His dick had an
ego?
The sound of drawers
opening and closing to my left had me turning my head in that direction. My
legs tingled with anticipation and lack of activity. I hoped I wasn’t going to
be on my knees too much longer. The snap of something caught my immediate
attention. Licking my dry lips, swallowing the golf ball sized knot, I readied
myself. Sweet-smelling leather assailed my senses.
“Do you know what the cat
o'nine tails is, Gia?” he asked. I did some Googling before this night,
so I wouldn’t be ignorant to basic BDSM—knots, whips, and positions 101. I
schooled myself quickly.
“Yes, Sir. A traditionally
favored whip with nine separate tails,” I qualified. Quirking a smile, I
awaited his answer. He answered by running the tails along my breasts … down to
my pussy … snapping my clit to attention. Over and over again, my body became
acquainted with this new form of torture. Legs shaking, I thrust myself
to an upright position, hoping this little exercise would stop this
embarrassing bodily display of minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted
to surrender to its master. My breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels. An
explosion of epic proportions was near. Whack!—across my behind. Ow! “Fuck me!”
“Not nearly yet,
sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me hard as fuck,
though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really meant it, but that’s
exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was turned on. And that turned me
on. If his lash marks on my skin do it for him, I think, then so be it.
“I want to taste you,
master. It’s only fair.” I was practically whining: throw me a fucking bone.
This BDSM shit was killing me. I’m not a patient person by nature. So I
deserved a reward for the restraint I had shown. The sound of his zipper
lowering caught my attention. The lava started to trickle down my legs again.
“Is this what you want,
pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-cum on my lips. I moaned
embarrassingly loud.
“Yes! More!” I demanded. He
presented his cock to my tongue. It
stroked something unfamiliar. Was it a piercing? Bracing myself on his thick
thighs, I fished for the object. Yep, he was pierced. Fuck me.
I expertly lavished it with
my tongue, paying homage to this rock god. Maybe his cock deserved its own zip
code? This was a locale I wanted to move to—like, now. Pushing forward,
I sought his engorged bell. Licking, flickering, and tonguing at break-neck
speed to the best of my ability, I made him roar. He ripped the scarf off,
freeing my eyes from their prison. Sight was returned—though I couldn’t see a
fucking thing. Squinting, I looked up toward his beautiful face; it was twisted
in agony. He needed release. His eyes sparking with warning, he looked as if
his thread-like hold on reality was virtually nonexistent. A sardonic smile
pulled on his lips as he continued stroking his cock. Up. Down. Up. Twist.
Down. Release. Up. Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his tightened
sack roughly, his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips.
His sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long breath,
battling for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my upturned eyes,
bringing my gaze back to his sack.
“Like what you see, babe?”
He smiled proudly. It was then I noticed his tatted dick. Whoa. His cock was a
kaleidoscope of vivid colors. The body of the dragon was done in green with the
underside in orange scales, running the entire length of his cock, ending with
the dragon’s head on his dick-head. His Apadravya shined brightly against the
dragon’s head, looking like it was coming out of its mouth. His Mons
provided the backdrop for the wings. I didn’t have enough time at the moment to
quell my fascination. He was a work of art that I intended to worship
fully. I was over-stimulated visually,
tilting my head awkwardly left, then right. What was that? I wasn’t
naïve. I knew there were guys who pierced the head of their dick. Shit. One was
right in front of me. But all along the dragon’s scaled underside were generous
loops. Can’t say I ever saw that or even heard of that before.
“It’s called frenum loops,
or Jacob’s ladder, babe. The one through my head is an Apadravya. You’ll be
thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me blush at my naïveté. He took
my lip-licking as a signal for further instruction in How to Suck Abel’s Cock
101.
“Relax. Open real wide. Get
it nice and wet,” he instructed. Relaxing my gag reflex, I readied my throat
for his invasion. Not only did I have to worry about his girth, but his
hardware as well. My mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to conjure up
enough saliva to get the job done. The wide tip of his cock made its way past
my lips, netting a groan from me of appreciation for this male. I lavished the
small beads of pre-come on my tongue, relishing his heady taste. God damn. His
hooded eyes caught mine as I acquiesced. I closed my eyes and sucked his head
hard with a quick swirl around his Apadravya. I spit into my palm, pumping his
cock once. Twice. A throaty groan made my clit swell. I loved his male sounds.
I knew I was doing this right. I wanted more. More of him. More of that
noise. Widening my mouth even further, I took his cock deeply. Paying close
attention to his Jacob’s ladder with my tongue. The jingling within my mouth
had me shuddering. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag.
Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. His fingers found their home deeply embedded in my
scalp, the pain making my eyes mist. Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat.
His eyes bore into me, watching me intently, appreciatively.
Though I didn’t see him
watching me, I knew he was. One final, swirling suck. I let my lips pop loudly.
Making jerking sounds of wetness, I tried the impossible: to swallow him. Breathing through my
nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed. The thickness of his cock swelling
was all the indication I needed. He was ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed
and opened to accommodate his girth further. Abel hissed his thankfulness by thrusting
deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He growled loudly, face-fucking me into
oblivion. Surprising even myself, I swallowed his gift of spicy goodness,
humming my appreciation to this deity. Swallowing it down and suck-tonguing his
Apadravya, I inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.
With a final groan I fell
back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and physically,
I was wiped out. I rubbed my fingers through the filaments, trying
desperately to soothe my restless soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where his
was or what he was doing. His gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my
eyes, savoring his touch.
“Oh, babe, we’re not done.
Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent and scooped me up. Swaddled in his
arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long strides, and we were in
his bedroom. He gently laid me on his king size bed, then stepped back.
“I’m gonna take a quick
shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.
“Nah, I’m good here for
now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.
He nodded and left through
the en-suite. Raising myself up to my forearms, I took in his room. So this
is his room here. Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his
palate choice, aside from his poppy-red, silk shantung comforter. Everything
was simple, yet elegant. It was clear to me that Abel sought home comforts and
swathed the hotel room with his possessions. I guess a life on the road was a
lonely one. Cocooning myself in the lush bedding, I concluded there was no
better place. And no better thing than his scent. Lord above, if I could
bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick.
Grabbing his pillow, I brought it to my nose, inhaling his heady alpha
scent. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond engorged, it needed release. I
needed to steal this pillow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he
asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He
abruptly reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit.
His eyes were alit with mischief. He pulled until my bottom was at the end of
the bed. I laid there naked and started to feel self-conscious. I turned to
grab the edge of the comforter.
“Don’t hide your body from
me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s mine. I want to taste
your nectar,” he commands and I obey, spreading my legs. When he doesn’t
respond, I get anxious. There’s a mirror on the wall next to the bed and I can
see my reflection. What a turn on. Me watching him—us--as his eyes devoured my
pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see me watching
tentatively through the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and
smiling as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. It was one big mind
fuck—and I could barely hold my own. My blood boiled while I watched his erotic
exhibition. Boy, was he a showman. He knelt down and seized both my thighs,
pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in the mirror is
suggestive. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling deeply.
“You’ve got such a pretty
pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done, I’m going to fuck
you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished for, babe!” He
winked. Cocky motherfucker. Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first
into my pussy, pushing his tongue deep inside me—growling, devouring. The
sounds of him sucking, licking, and nipping my pussy had my muscles locking up.
I reached for his hair. I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my
pussy until I was good and ready to let go.
“Gia, put your damn hands
above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I acquiesced. I
would fucking die or kill someone if he stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.
“God has no place here,
babe.” His voice was demonic. Did I just say that aloud? Never lifting his face
from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my chest, lathering his
face in my juice. Oh, God. His growling, biting, and sucking were sounds
I would never forget. He was feral. Possessed. Using two fingers, he started
finger fucked me as he sucked my clit. My legs were shaking with deep
vibrations and I started to rock my hips. Twisting the comforter in my hands, I
started to scream my release. He didn’t stop. I barely registered the rumbling
from his chest as I floated back down to earth. My eyes opened to a savage
beast, leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in surprise. He stood tall
and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock; his face still glistening
with my cum. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had one thing on his mind and
that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked pussy.
“You want this cock now,
babe?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Still stroking his cock, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.
“Please, Abel. I want you
now,” I begged. I needed him now.
“Need to hear you say it,
babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep into you.” His voice was barely
audible.
The grit in his tone had me
wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching me closely,
his control threadbare.
“Abel, fuck me with that
big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my clit,” I hissed. That
did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I. He teased the entrance
with the head of his cock. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special attention to
my clit with his Apadravya; back and forth, round and round. The pressure
mounted. I couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I leaned
forward and grabbed his cock—hard.
“Stop fucking with me,
fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by feeding me his cock—one
motherfucking inch at a time.
“I have to loosen you up a
bit. I can’t go balls deep yet. Let me work myself in there. Love my girls
greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone,” he growled
breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious,
scorching cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of
my head. His warm breath hummed in my ear as his hand reached down to stroke my
clit.
“Come on, babe. Open for
me,” he rumbled. His thrusting became a bit harder and quicker, and I felt my
body opening up for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly and I tried
to wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in place.
“Not yet, babe. I haven’t
worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang on.” He nipped my
ear. I sighed. Fuck, I thought he was all the way in. Christ, I’m not built for
this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt cheeks and clamped down with
my hands, pulling him deeper into me. He corkscrewed his ass over and over. I
screamed my pleasure.
“That’s it, mama. Scream
for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed. Biting my lip to
stay present and not float away, I took a mental screenshot of this moment. I
felt so full. My walls stretched to accommodate his girth. With each thrust, he
sank deeper. And I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked. Literally. The
sound of my blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I couldn’t tell
if it was my breathing or his that echoed around me. It was a hodgepodge of
ecstasy. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.
“Arch your back for me,
babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own this pussy
right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely submitting. After
all, this was what he asked for: complete and utter submission.
“That’s it, babe. Offer me
that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least favorite word sound like
a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our bodies in tune with one
another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust. His frenum rings hitting
spots I’ve never sensed before, he manipulated my body with expert precision. I
regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of me. His eyes
bore into me with stealth precision. Looking directly into my soul, he smiled
wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant prick. Yeah, he knew he was
the best ride in town. Fuck me.
Grinding my heels into the
mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust. He moved his
fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms above my head,
he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then, he hit a whole new
angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his
cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He released my
hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot,
thick ropes of cum painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all
right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his
body still. He looked like a fucking god—absolutely stunning. I will never get
this image out of my head.
He finally opened his
eyes—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in post-coital bliss.
I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me, kissing me with
his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked tongue, and not
caring that his cum was smeared all over his body. Most men would mind. But he wasn’t
most men. I accepted with a moan.
He kissed me for a long
while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with just the
sensation floating behind my eyes of colorful, pastel swirls. I barely had a
conscious thought; it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My body was
enveloped in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would forever be
his—whether he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His
to consume, to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with
his essence, the fuel, the nourishment that my body craved. His melodic gritty
voice carried me to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but spoke to my
heart—awakening me. I opened my eyes, seeking him out. He was singing an
acappella version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal
Abel’s. I listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, I knew
what it was! It was his cover of “Dark
Horse.” His had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. And more importantly, it was quintessential
Abel. He mastered everything he did. It was always on his terms.
Make me your one and only
But don’t make me your
enemy, your enemy, your enemy
So you wanna play with
magic
Girl, you should know what
you’re falling for
Baby, do you dare to do
this?
‘Cause I’m coming at you
like a dark horse
Are you ready for a perfect
storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause once you’re mine,
there’s no going back …”
Oh, God. His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I
laid back down and let his voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his
gravelly tones—carrying me to him.
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