Lustful Alchemy

18. CASSANDRA*

I swallow the potion that Sharp had me dribble onto my tongue and down my throat, pressing the fingers holding the vial against my lips, arousing in me the instinct to suckle them. He watches as I gulp down every drop of this tasteless liquid, save for a faint hint of sugar; his eyes fixed on mine, within which glimmers the flame of a primal hunger, while he strokes my chin with his thumb. I am completely at his mercy, without weapons or means to defend myself. And yet, it's what I desire.

However, I don't feel any changes in my body or my mind. Sharp senses the perplexity in my expression, eager to receive what he has promised me.

«You're thinking it's not taking effect, little Doyle?», he asks in a deep voice, catching me completely off guard by using an endearment.

I feel my cheeks burning, and not just from the proximity to the lit fireplace. I nod quickly, and he chuckles lowly, biting his lip, terribly seductive. He leans in closer to me, our faces just inches apart, his scent filling my nostrils and making the situation even more exciting. «And you thought I'd create a potion you'd immediately feel the effects of?», he says, mocking my naivety.

Still gazing at me, he moistens his lips with his tongue, while running his thumb over mine. Instinctively, I kiss him as soon as he touches me, closing my eyes to the pleasant sensation his touch elicits. When I reopen them, Sharp is still looking at me, aroused, and I feel anticipation growing inside me, my heart beating faster.

«I like it when you do that, little one... but I have a feeling you could do better». His voice is now like a stream of molten lava coursing through my body, from my ears to my chest and then to my lower abdomen, as he gently but firmly pushes his thumb into my mouth. My tongue immediately welcomes it, and I obediently begin to suckle it, eager to please him in every way.

Without breaking this contact, he straightens up again, tall and imposing above me, while with a nod of his head towards my shoulder, he orders me: «Take it off». I do as he says and, still without averting my gaze or interrupting the eager suction on his digit, I remain wearing only the nightshirt, light and sleeveless, my bare arms shivering from the cold.

Sharp's gaze travels over my entire body, lingering on those most sensitive points, still covered by the light fabric. I'm desperate to undress. I suck on his finger, going deeper, encircling it with my tongue and clearly sensing on his skin the taste and smell of tobacco, of the cigarettes he smokes, and leather, from the suitcase he brought with him.

It's a sensation I've never experienced before: being so aware of how reactive my senses are, on edge, adept at receiving every taste and smell, unleashes within me a visceral and animalistic desire. And the only one who can satisfy it is the man standing in front of me, releasing a hoarse and excited sigh as my tongue teases his digit.

All of Sharp's excitement pours into his groin, and from this position, I have a perfect view of his trousers, under which his cock begins to swell, becoming harder and larger. The buttons strain against the fabric, and I feel the urgency to free his member, but even more so to touch it, to feel how hard and warm it is.

I move my hand towards his groin, but Sharp is quicker and blocks it with his own, gripping my wrist. «Not tonight. I never said your reward would consist of this», he says, aware of torturing me cruelly... so why is my underwear getting wetter and wetter?

He slowly releases his thumb from my lips, wetting them with my own saliva. «Do you want it so much? My cock?», he asks, and as much as his question sounds more like a command with only one answer, I can only submit to his will and nod, swallowing all my desire and excitement.

Sharp leans back over me, pressing me against the armchair. Our bodies are now very close, boiling and trembling, as he brings my arm above my head, his fingers still tightly gripping my wrist in a painful grip. Even the sense of touch has sharpened, making me so sensitive that I can almost feel the blood coursing through his veins and our bones brushing against each other under our respective flesh. He brings his face close to my ear, scratching my cheek with his beard, and whispers in a deep voice: «Will you be patient enough to earn it?».