Bound
Something's different. You don't know what it is but there's something that's changed. For one, Damon hasn't dominated you as soon as he's turned up. Instead he stands on your doorstep while raising an eyebrow at you. Only at your insistence does he enter.
Despite the aura around him, you knew why he's here; sex. His dark eyes follow yours as you shut the door behind him. Normally he pins you against the door, ravishing you but instead he stands there. He looks almost nervous. Damon's nervous? The two words seem wrong when mentioned in the same sentence.
For months you've been on and off with him. But never had he waited for you to make the first move. You walk towards him, your steps controlled and precise. Never before have you been the predator. As you walk closer, he stays in the same place. Damon wants you this way, you can feel it. His need to be dominated oozes from his pores.
Your hands grip the edges of his leather jacket. Tugging the edges, you pull him towards you and your lips crash together in a hungry kiss. Just like you suspected, he needs to be dominated. He yields under your touch and, for the first time, he allows you to explore his own mouth. Under the expert playing of your tongue, his fangs begin to descend. You use them like twin blades, slicing the top layer of your tongue on them. The pain is brief and it dulls beneath your desire. Blood begins to ooze from the cut and drip into his mouth.
A growl vibrates through his chest and his hands begin to encircle your waist. No way! He's not taking the reins again! Grabbing the sides of his leather jacket, you push him back into the wall. A thud rings around the room and Damon's growl falters. The force of your push causes a picture to fall from the wall, it glass shattering.
Your tongue continues to ooze blood slowly, each drop causing the vampire within him to go into frenzy. His tongue battles yours; not for dominance, but for blood. Having learnt his mistake; his hands rest on your hips, his fingers looping through your belt hoops. Your hands begin to push his jacket back, the leather sliding from his shoulders and down his arms. You barely hear the sound as it crumples on the floor.
His tongue glides across yours, desperately seeking the little drops of life filled liquid. Even the brief tingles where his fangs scrape leave your breathless for more. So this is why people purposely hunt vampires. To have them take their blood. What sort of an insane aphrodisiac is this?
Long nails scrape over his black t-shirt, the material clinging to his form, barely moving beneath your probing touch. The muscle beneath is evident. Your hands reach the hem of his t-shirt and slide beneath it, your hands trapped by fabric and muscle. Damon hisses slightly as your nails rake over his flesh, squeezing each nipple roughly as you go. Against your thigh you can feel his hardness straining against his black jeans.
Black. The colour itself seems to describe Damon. A dark mystery, one you know you'll never solve. A raven that flies through the night, unnoticed and invisible until it's too late. But unlike a raven, Damon doesn't scavenge. His prey comes willingly… You come willingly. It symbolises his dominance, the way black seems to override any other colour when mixed. The way he over rides you - dominating you - and forces your submission.
But not tonight.
Tonight he's yours.
Your hands reach for the buckle of his belt. The noise of the belt buckle clanking, a sign of what's to come, never fails to ignite your passion. You pull at the leather, slowly wrapping it around your right hand. Hmm, leather. What wondrous, torturous things you could do with it. The top button of his jeans pops open easily with a flick of your fingers. Beneath your touch Damon growls deeply, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest.
The noise snaps your from your thoughts and tug in the hem of his shirt. Damon follows you easily, and his heated gaze never straying from your form. You lead him to your bedroom, push him roughly down on the bed. Reaching over to your draws, you pull the pen knife from them. You always keep it there for emergencies. And wanting to rid someone of their clothes is class as an emergency, right?
You place the knife to the collar of his black t-shirt. The tip of the blade nicks his collar bone and a small bead of blood wells up in the small mark. The sight of it gives you an idea… The material doesn't struggle beneath the knife blade. It falls into scraps around his body like ashes from a bonfire. You don't waste time with admiring him, you can save that for later. Instead you wrench his jeans down from his hips, the material leaving red grazes down his hips.
Before he has chance to recover you begin to tie his wrists to the head board. He won't escape; even if he wanted to. The ropes have been soaked in vervain and left to dry; strengthening the rope beyond a vampire's strength but minus the burning side effects.
He struggles slightly beneath your tough but his wrists are already bound. Using the rest of the rope, you guide it around his forearms, up and around his biceps. The rope is like velvet in your grip. Taking the other length, you repeat the action to his left side. When that's done, you take both of the pieces and kriss-cross them over his chest and beneath his arching body until his bound like a willing sacrifice. The ropes continue down his body, wrapping around his muscular thighs like ribbons of ancient fog. Thin threads escape from the rope, casting shadows over his thighs. As you run out of rope, you finish his bindings by tying his ankles, apart, to the bottom of the bed.
He growls once again and his eyes follow you as you leave the bed. When you return with a thin strip of soft leather, his eyes widen with excitement.
"So this is how you're going to play me? Go on, I still won't beg."
You tie the leather around the base of his cock, an effective end to Damon's hopes of release. "We'll see about that." You smirk to him as you move back to admire your work. The edges of the rope cast shadows against his skin and you can see the muscles in his arms straining against the rope. "I'll have you begging in pleasure before the night it out."
Remembering the earlier incident with the knife, you reach for it again. The handle is cool to touch and the blade reflects what little light is in the room. Damon's grin is almost feral beneath you. He's guessed your intentions already. "A mixture of pain and pleasure? I've underestimated you…" he trails off as you place the blade at his bicep. The way you've wound the rope enables you to easily reach his flesh and to taste the wine coloured liquid that will rise from the cuts.
You run the blade over his skin, creating a superficial wound that will heal in seconds. But it's enough to make his hiss but not flinch. Damon's been through worse. You lower your lips to swish your tongue across his bicep. Beneath you're his muscles quiver. As you lap at the blood, you reach to squeeze one of his pebbled nipples. His breathing becomes shallow as you draw his blood from the closing wound.
Flavour bursts out over your tongue. A firework of tantalising goodness seeps through your body. It mixes with your own bloodstream, racing amongst your own blood. It sends cool spikes of pain through your body, nothing serious, but addictive nonetheless. You become light headed with it, and desperate for another bought, you reach for the knife again. This time you do a small cut above his right nipple. As you bend to lap at the blood, you take his nipple into your mouth as well. Beneath you Damon tenses and throws his head back, anything so he doesn't react to your touch.
The taste of his blood makes you bolder. You know exactly what to do to make him beg for you. He'll bed to touch you. He'll beg for your touch. He'll beg for his release…
You move away from him and slide from the large king sized bed. "Watch me. And don't let your eyes stray!"
Damon smirks but does as he's told. You stand before him and slowly unbutton your blouse. He whistles his appreciation and his eyes roam over the soft expanse of skin that you reveal. You breasts are pushed up in your bra, straining for release. The sight is welcoming to him for he shifts in his rope bonds. Taking the last button, you undo it slowly before pushing the fabric from your shoulders. Your red lacy bra, the same colour as his blood, contrasts with the colour of your skin.
You know he's made the link between the colour and his blood. Red; passion, lust, power and determination. All of these thunder through your veins. Damon's yours now. And there's nothing he can do about it.
You pull a chair up from the corner of the room. Before you sit, you turn your back to him. You undo your belt and push your jeans down your hips, arching your back as you do. His heated gaze sets your senses alive. You turn back to face him and his eyes trail up and down your figure. They linger on your matching underwear. His dark eyes seem to glimmer in the dull light like the knife's edge once did. Black stands fall across his eyes as if to guard from any emotion that may flicker across that piercing gaze.
You sit down on the seat with your legs spread. You let your hands trail down your body, your red fingernails scraping lightly across your flesh. Damon's chest rises and falls rapidly and his cock swells against the leather. It stands tall and proud, nestled in short, dark curls and pre-cum weeps from the tip as if crying for release.
You focus on his face as your hand pushes the thin fabric of your panties to the side. Your finger slips into the wet folds of your labia. You didn't even know you were this wet. It circles your clit slowly and you lean back in the chair to give yourself better access and Damon a better view. He makes a noise low in his throat and his hands begin to clench tightly.
You keep your eyes closed as you imagine Damon doing this to. His finger would gently circle you, just enough pressure to tease but not enough to create pure pleasure. His finger would then press against the tip of your clit, and release is. Press. Release. Press. Release. You'd whimper beneath his touch. His finger would then trail to your wet opening and work its way deep inside you. You buck under your own touch, imagining the way it would curl against your sweet spot and make you arch from the chair.
Another finger joins it and you rub the palm of your hand against your clit. Your spare hand reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. It falls into your lap but your throw it over the chair. On the bed Damon isn't much better. His eyes are locked on where your fingers glide in and out of your body and his cock is desperately trying to seek release. His hands are clutching at the rope, and his breathing is quick and shallow. You see the thin, white scar of the healing cuts on his bicep and above his nipple. The memory of them sends cool chills of desire through your body.
"Fuck, how can you know exactly what a guy wants?" Damon's speech is broken with his breathing. He's straining against his bonds once more.
Heat pools around your lower body, more concentrated around that tiny little bundle of nerves. You allow your gaze to run along Damon's body; tracing the contours of muscles and that 100 kilowatt smile. You imagine his body pressed against you, his fingers working and pumping your body. Heat falls along your hips like a waterfall; powerful and constant.
You meet his dark onyx gaze and it pierces you to your core. Your orgasm is sudden and it takes your breath away. There was no building to the climax. It's there and it's sudden and it's powerful. Your ships rock against you own hand and your imagination runs wild. Damon's fingers are thrusting deeper into you, calling you a little a slut, his fucking whore. There's a sudden stinging sensation and you fantasise about his fangs in your neck; revenge for wielding the knife against him earlier. Your throw you neck back, giving Damon enough to know what you're imagining. He can see the pulse beneath your skin; he can hear the erotic pounding of your blood as it pushes his own through your system. At the height of your orgasm, a sharp cold shock from Damon's blood shocks your hips and your clit and you lean back in ecstasy. Your fingers pull away from your body and you lean forward in the chair, waiting for your head to clear.
Damon's harsh breathing fills the room and his eyes have gone darker than anything before. The shadows from the rope dance with every breath he takes. He continues to watch you as you move towards him. Your body is relaxed and your hips sway from side to side with every movement.
You settle above his thighs and with a wink, you grip Damon's hard cock in one hand. His eyes flutter closed for a moment before he opens them again. His smirk his back and you know he's going to try and hold back.
"You're really going to try this? You know I'll never beg you. You're display was nice though. I'd happily watch it again." His tongue darts out to wet his dried lips. His eyes are wide with pleasure as you move you hand up and down his shaft. You allow your fingers to trail along the underside and Damon clenches his teeth in response. So he can't stop all his reactions… You repeat the motion again and his hips move up into your hand slightly.
Your other hand reaches behind his shaft to cup his balls. Kneading them between your fingers, you settle them into the palm of your hand and squeeze them gently. A small whimper comes from Damon's throat. As you move your hand up and down, you touch the leather that encircles his cock. You grin to yourself and part of you thinks about letting his have his release… No, this is too good for that. Your hand then turns on his shaft, around it, adding a flick of sudden sensation to his already leaking cock.
Your thumb sweeps over the tip of his cock and he hisses between clenched teeth. Pre-cum is smeared down his shaft, lubricating your palm and allowing you easier movement. Flick. Twist. Swipe. Cradle. Knead. Up. Down. Twist. Swipe. Cradle. Flick. In no time he's withering under your touch and you know it's going to be moments before he's begging for more. Gripping him slightly tighter, you move your hand up and down his shaft and lean forward to lick over his abdominals. His muscles quiver and shake and his hips grind against your body.
"Fuck," Damon breaths and his head his pressed back into the pillow. "You're never going to end this are you?" As if to prove to him, you tug him harder and turn your wrist at the same time.
"Beg me. Then I'll end it." He bucks beneath your touch and his words cause his breathing to stutter. You can sense the pleasure rolling over him in waves. Constantly bringing him to the brink and then the leather pushes him back. Such a thin piece of material…
"Please," he says, his eyes dark and filled with lust.
"That's not begging. Beg harder."
"Please, I need to cum. Only you can let me. I need you." His voice is broken and stuttering and you know he needs it. His breathing is shallow and his chest rises and falls rapidly. Damon's raven black hair is pressed back into the pillow with his torture. Sweat gleams over his chest and tiny dewy drops rest in the ridges of his muscles.
You pause your actions for a moment. Relief floods Damon's eyes. "I'll release you, but don't cum. I want to ride your cock till I orgasm. Only then will you climax. But beg again and I'll remove the leather." Excitement sparkles like a starry night in his eyes and you see him swallowing his own pride and arrogance.
"Please, Mistress." His use of words surprises you and your hand inches towards the leather. "Please, let me cum. I can't wait to be buried in your depths, to feel you clench around my cock. I want you to milk me. Only you will see me like this." The last bit is a lie, but it ignites your desire once more.
Your sex is wet and glistening, his submissive display and your own obvious dominance turning you on more than ever before. You rise above his cock, your sex millimetres above his throbbing cock. As you untie the leather, you sink down onto his cock. Damon gasps in pleasure as he fills you to the brink. For a moment you allow yourself some respite and time to get used to his girth and length.
Placing a hand on his chest, you rise up and down on his length. His cock brushes your sweet spot and you lean forward to your clit get the same amount of attention. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as his lips part with the effort not to cum. This is more torture that with the leather on, you can see it in Damon's eyes. His hips rise and snap up to meet your down thrusts and you whimper in pleasure once more.
Leaning forward, you raise your ass in the air and continue to ride him as your lips seek his. The flavour of your own blood lingers slightly on his tongue and you're reminded of drinking his own red wine. You never noticed before, too caught up in your own pleasure, but his fangs are descended once more. Damon's hungry; for pleasure or for blood? Or both? His tongue brushes against yours and you allow him this little bit of control. His tongue explores your mouth, mapping areas that he's already explored numerous times. Damon's tongue dips into the small crevasse that you cut earlier, but when he doesn't find anything, he moves again. His lips move against yours, pressing roughly. With blunt teeth he nips gently on your bottom lips before his fangs begin to put small cuts along the surface. He sucks your lower lip into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue until your blood it flowing freely.
You continue to bounce on his cock as he takes your blood from your body, the hypnotising sensation bringing you to new heights. You whimper as he takes more blood and your eyes and locked in his deep gaze and you know he's the one in control. Despite everything you've done to him. He's the one that always been in control. He knows how to make you unravel yourself and turn into jelly in his arms.
Damon knows your body more than you do.
His hips continue to thrust into yours and he releases you lip from his care. "You're such a slut, you know that? You always thought you had control." He chuckles to himself. As if to emphasise it, he thrusts up into you with an unnatural strength. You lurch forward and cry out at the same time. Good God, the force of him…
"See, you'll always be mine. My own little slut, the one I can always come to for a good time. Never again will you be with anyone else. You're mine." Beneath his possessive words you detect an undercurrent of another emotion… love? But it's lost on you as he begins to speak again. With every word, he thrusts into your pussy, bringing you further and further to the edge of no return. "You. Are. Mine. You'll never dominate me. I'm not made to be submissive, that's your role in this."
"Now, come for me." Damon's words undo you and you cry out in pure pleasure. Your name falls from his lips and you wonder when he took the time to learn it. Your muscles contract around his cock and Damon groans as he's lost in a tidal wave of lusts. Damon comes deep inside you, the force rocking you once more. God this is it. It's wonderful. You've never felt anything like it before.
You collapse against him when your orgasm ends. For a few moments you both lay there, your bodies slick with sweat and the occasional splatter of blood. You grin up at him, the iron taste in your mouth making you aware of your bloody lips. Damon grins at you again, his fangs flashing as the recede back into his gums.
"Now, are you going to release me?"
"Yes, sir." Your response makes you chuckle. You begin at his ankles, slowly untying his bonds. As you peel the rope away you see the red lines that the rope has left behind. When he's away from you he'll always remember them; the best thing about a vampire memory. Once you're done you throw the rope to one side and settle down beside him.
Damon rolls to face you and looks up and down your body. "We should do that more often. The switch of roles, it helps to funk things up again."
You nod again and you feel sleep trying to claim you. "We should. And I'm sorry about your t-shirt. We can bury it if you want."
He chuckles and his hand comes to rest on your hair. You can feel the coldness of his daylight ring. "Maybe. But doesn't it sound a bit too domestic?"
You don't respond to his words, instead you pull him closer to you. You don't know when this started. It just did. Damon started staying longer and he began to stay until morning. And then have breakfast with you. And then lunch and dinner. And even stay the night sometimes. And now he's here most nights, and it's not just for sex. He wants you, and needs you, as much as you need him.
Hey up, sorry about the long wait! I wasn't too sure about this one! Hope you liked it. Right, the internet is going to go down any minute (getting a carpet fitted so all electronics are off, which sucks) so I'll post quickly. I'll mention all names next time, promise! Any more ideas are all welcome! Please review! :D xxx