Forbidden Sensations: A Dark Romance Savannah Rose (readnow TXT) 📖

Now that he was blind, every other sense was magnified, and I was quite sure touch was topping the list. My touch.

“Do you like that, Maddy?” I said, scraping my fingernails across his collar bones. I dug a little harder, a little deeper. Thin red lines appeared on his flesh, cat-claw scratches. I could play connect the dots with the splash of freckles on his skin. Freckles. Interesting. “I asked, do you like that?”

He shook his head, scrunching his eyes closed and said, “...don't...”

“Don't? Meaning you don't like it?” I glanced down below his waist. Sure enough, his special soldier was coming to attention. Phhbt. Soldier? More like a general. “I think you're lying, Maddy. Well, I mean, obviously you're lying. Are you saying you don't like me touching you?”

“Unlock the cuffs,” he said through a raspy, gritted voice.

He was getting aggravated. I could hear the anger just below the surface. Rising to the top.

“That's a silly thing to say,” I remarked, and reached behind me. I took one of his oh so secret toys from the bag. “You know I can't do such a thing. I won't do such a thing. But what I will do, since you said you don't like me touching you –”

“I didn't say that. I didn't say that!” He kicked out at the sand, strained against the binds that wouldn't give even a single inch. The muscles in his neck protruded like cords of rope.

“What I will do,” I said, and turned the little object on. It hummed in my hand, a jelly soft tube, no bigger than an egg. “Is let this do the touching for me.”

He froze, recognized the sound of the little vibrator.

From the looks of it, I would assume it was suitable for using on all genders. And for the briefest of moments, I thought of putting it against my nipple, just to see how it would feel. It would be better, though, to have him see me do that to myself. And now wasn't my turn. It was his.

The little egg had a few settings, but I kept it on the one that felt as though it had a tiny rolling pins inside. They moved up and down the tube, in pulsing rhythms. Pretty ingenious. With one hand pushing against his chest, his gasping, heaving chest, I put the toy against his inner thigh. So he'd know it was there.

“Is that better?”

He didn't seem to be capable of answering, which made this even more fun. There was the tiniest bit of spittle in the corner of his mouth. I didn't find it appalling or gross. I found it very, very gratifying.

“Yeah, I think that is better,” I cooed, and slipped the ring around his cock.

His hitching breath stopped as the sensation began to work its magic. I hadn't used something like this before, yet, it was fairly self-explanatory.

I pulled it up his shaft, then back down. Repeating as necessary. And to Maddox, it was very, very necessary. He was moaning, his legs no longer kicking, but stretched out in front of him, trying to lift his hips from the sand. He was craving it more, and more.

I obliged him, squeezing the vibrator tighter. And tighter. Faster. All the while digging my nails into his chest.

He was getting close. So close. His abdomen rose and fell, and I suspected he was trying not to moan, trying to keep it quiet as the orgasm began to knock on his door. That was the best part, when it began to announce itself on the threshold, hovering, teasing, waiting for you to beg.

Maddox's jaw clenched, and I imagined he was digging his own nails into the palms of his hands as the toy and I continued to pleasure him.

The gasps were wonderful. Even more so as they escalated to genuine groans.

“You wanna come, Maddy?”

His mouth parted. His breathing wasn't rhythmic anymore, just a random pattern of desperation. The release, that grand and glorious release was on its way, stalled in that marvelous, almost painful state. Right before it hits.

“...y-yes, yes...” he managed, somehow.

My knuckles went white on the ring. I wanted to grab a handful of flesh, but his chest was so tight, so muscled, all I could do was press my fingers in harder.

I put my lips close to his ear. “Say the magic word.”

He filled his lungs, held his breath, and a short, guttural moan locked in his throat. It was all he was able to do, in the seconds before he would climax.

“Oops,” I whispered. “Too late.”

I pulled off the ring, and tossed it back in his bag. Two points!

I gave myself a little fist pump, hah-hah, then began untying the blindfold. I wanted to see his eyes, right now. I wanted to see what he was thinking. What he was feeling. Moreover, I wanted to see pain.

He did not disappoint.

Not sure if I'd call it shock, or the nth degree of disbelief. Perhaps a combination of the two. His eyes were wide, staring at me, and I swear he was hyperventilating. His dick was still hard, the drops of pre-ejaculatory celebrations dripping in sad disappointment down his shaft. All dressed up and nowhere to go, as it were. Those were kind of like tears, too. Like the ones that were making his eyes wet. Excellent.

“Do you even know what the magic word is?” I asked him, watching him try to catch his breath. Watching him go back to a more… flaccid state. “Probably not, huh? I mean, why say 'please' when you've been handed everything on a silver fucking platter? So I guess it's reasonable. Pathetic and lame, not very polite, but reasonable.”

“What… do you… want,” he spat through gritted teeth.

“What kind of question is that? And what makes you think I want anything? Other than what I already have, I can't think of a god damn