Undisclosed Desires

22. Can't Feel My Face

Too far away, the door is ajar. You can't hear anything, only mumbling from whoever was at the door.

Standing by the black dresser, your eyes roam the room. It's spacious, loft-style, with grey concrete walls and flooring. There are no large welcoming windows, just a few far up by the ceiling.

"Just take care of it." He huffs, slamming the door. His fingers roam his hair like a tick when he's irritated. "Fucking incompetent people." He mumbles, walking over to a small bar cart by the entrance.

Pouring the double shot, more like a triple shot, of whiskey, he swirls the glass, examining your naked body, standing still.

Like his own personal Venus statue

There's a noticeably crooked smirk as he looks down at his drink. "But you're not incompetent, are you?" Before chugging the beverage in a single gulp.

His fingers grip a silver container as he walks closer to you. A familiar fine white dust is filled to the brim. His fingers trail your skin, admiring the softness, the scarless supple body before him.

A tickling sensation courses through your shoulders as he places his powder in a small line, following the groove where your neck meets your shoulders.

His face inches closer to your body as the substance is absorbed through his nose.

"Want some?"

Weed here and there help you fall asleep sometimes. But the hard stuff like pills and cocaine makes your entire skin burn, not in a good way. Your heart beats much too rapidly, and all the negative thoughts in your mind just get amplified, mixed with fearless adrenaline. All you can do is scream internally, sometimes externally, until it wears off. No thanks.

"I thought cocaine makes dicks go soft."

Taking another hit of his powder, he laughs at your remark.

It was different than the menacing chuckles he gave you earlier. It was genuine. Making his abdomen vibrate, showing his pearly teeth as he laughs.

And you can't help but smile at the wrinkles of his laughter.

"Let's test that theory of yours, shall we?" His lips were cold, with the icy taste of alcohol swirling around your tongue, making you intoxicated with his touch.

Turning your body to face the reflection from the vanity mirror, he reaches for the leather belt, grabbing your hands, pinning your wrists together behind your back. "Does it feel soft to you?" He lowly growls as you feel his entirety poking you.

Your lack of response, other than you softly biting your lip, causes a sudden pulsing smack onto your ass.

"I asked you a question." He says in his demanding tone.

"No!" You yelp at the second spanking.

You took too long responding, wondering what the result of your disobedience was.

With your hands securely tied behind your back, Sakusa takes complete control of your body. His fingers find your fold almost impatiently. As if he desperately needed to feel the warmth of your insides with his fingers.

His motions were slow, circular motions around your clit, making sure to hear you whimper at his touch. There is no vibrating button, no hyper-fast speed to his movement. But the way his slender fingers curl deep with purpose inside of you beats any toy he could have used.

Teething clashing on your shoulders, his breathing is heavy, and his eyelids are drowsy. The mixture of drugs and alcohol quickly does their job, making him momentarily stumble as they kick in. Stuttering moans erupt from your lips as he fastens the pace, squelching and heavy breathing. You try to keep your balance as he holds your belted hands, but the sensation makes your entire body tremble.