This chapter is nothing but smut. Remember, Rick is high as balls in this and doesn't care that he's being raped. There will be repercussions later, never fear.
He has no idea what she's given him but it's good. It's damn good. His heart speeds up and an euphoric rush overtakes him. The downy inside of the sweatpants tickles his skin and on the one hand it's too much and on the other not nearly enough. Her slim hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once and he hears her soft chuckle when he arches into them. His shirt parts, she's caressing his chest, his nipples and it's still not enough and he whines.
"More," he gasps, needy, desperate, wanton.
"You want more, Castle?" the woman's voice teases, oh how she teases! Her hands are gone and he pouts for a moment until he hears the slither of clothing being shed near his ear. His imagination is as on fire as the rest of him and he longs to see, to touch, to worship this goddess beside him. His arms strain as he pulls at the cuffs but they are cruel. They are unyielding. He growls in frustration but then she's there, she's on top of him, kissing him, licking his flesh and he plants his foot on the bed and thrusts his hips upward.
Why the fuck is he still wearing pants?
"Easy there, bucko," she admonishes, and the memory of her riding him sends another shot of heat to his loins. He's rock hard, painfully, agonizingly hard, and it would all be so much better if she would just touch him, but she's taking it slow. Fuck, fuck, FUCKING HELL he so needs these pants gone!
By the time she strips him, he has descended into incoherency, his vocabulary reduced to "Please!" and "Oh GOD" and an occasional "Fuck!" plus all the iterations thereof. By the time she takes him in her mouth he has collapsed into nonsensical diphthongs.
He's on fire, so hot that her mouth feels cool, licking and sucking and teasing and he just can't stand it. He wants to move, but she holds him down, fingers bruising his thrashing hips, breasts brushing his aching thighs. His head lolls to the side when she cups his sack and takes most of him down her throat. The tiny, rational, irreverent, part of his brain is impressed, he's not small, but it's soon washed away by the undulations of her tongue.
He feels moisture at his wrists but doesn't give a shit because his orgasm is building at the base of his spine and it's going to be a monster. His toes curl and uncurl and he's making little mewling noises in time with his thrusts. He sobs with his entire being when she removes her mouth only to take him inside a second later. Her thighs grip his and she's so wet and tight and she rides him with abandon. He bends his back and her arms snake around him, raking his shoulder blades with her nails. Her tongue laves his neck and he pumps one final time and they explode together, a mess of limbs and sweat and exultation. The pleasure rocks his entire body, pulled from the earth itself up through his toes to his crown and back again, wave after wave of ecstasy that shakes his very soul.
She drapes herself across him as he floats down, gasping and panting like a drowned man. He's still roasting inside, feverish even, and his heart throbs against his breastbone. His wrists burn, painfully this time and he's pretty sure that slickness trickling down is arms is his own blood.
His unseen lover shifts and the connection between them is broken. Despite his massive orgasm, he's still half-hard, something that hasn't happened since college. He doesn't doubt it's pharmaceutically induced. He hears running water and she returns, sliding a straw between his lips.
"Drink," she murmurs, "or you'll overheat."
He obeys, the cool liquid slides down his throat but does little to disperse the heat within.
He hears the jingle of chains and feels the chill of metal against his ankle. He hisses when he feels her hands on his arm.
"Shhhh," she whispers again, in an attempt to calm. "I'm just going to take a look at your wrists. I'm going to release you, but if you try to escape or touch the blindfold, you will be punished again, do you understand?"
He nods, still incapable of speech, and hears the soft click of the key.
His over-heated brain works furiously as the cuffs open...
Smut is SO MUCH FUN! I love writing it, nothing is off limits! Anyway, thanks for reading and don't forget to review (I'm looking at you, all those silent followers!). Even if you don't review, I love you anyway.
Oh, and if anyone guesses what drugs she gave him I'll give you a virtual cookie. And spoilers, if you want them!
