Deal with the Devil

Chapter 38

Tom was facing his bed as he leisurely undressed, setting aside his tie, folding his button-down and laying it beside the scrap of silk. He chuckled as he heard the shy padding of his pet's feet crossing the threshold into his room. He revolved to face her, one hand settled on his belt. Her hands were hiding her breasts bashfully and her pale skin was stained red to her chest. "Drop your hands, pet." She lowered them slowly and they danced nervously against her skin. "Lovely," he said. "Remove your skirt." He crossed his arms over his chest as she did just that with shaky fingers. Loosened morals did not reduce social anxiety, apparently. Or not completely. The skirt fell to her feet and she stepped out of it, her heels delicately clicking against the floor.

Tom groaned at the sight. She stared at him with those wide eyes, red lips parted, hair already disheveled where it fell against her shoulders. The smooth expanse of her torso was bare, breasts round and pert and topped with deliciously pink nipples, garter belt holding up her thigh highs, dark against her milky skin, legs shaped to advantage by the heels she still wore. She was a vision of pending debauchery. He gestured her forward until she was within reach and tugged her to him, hands molding her small, quaking form to his as he kissed her.

Her mouth opened obediently and, when his tongue sought hers out, she began to move her lips against his and stroked his tongue shyly with hers. Tom led her to the bed, spilling her atop it before pulling away. Her lipstick was lewdly smeared over her mouth and she blinked heavily. "Finish undressing," he commanded in a voice gravelly with lust. She obeyed a touch more quickly than before, her eyes locked on him as he drew his undershirt over his head and tossed it aside, unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers. He'd slipped off his shoes and socks upon entering, trousers falling easily now. As he shucked his final layer, she looked away, hesitating to remove her pale pink knickers. "Didn't I give you an order?"

His little doll's gaze snapped to him before she could help herself and she stared agape at his nude form.

"Pet," he said. He towered over her, one hand flying under her jaw to hold her face toward him. "I gave you an order." She chewed on her lip and nodded, hands going to the top of the small piece of fabric but didn't move. "Do you need assistance? You need to ask."

It was enchanting how she gasped at the hand on her throat, pupils dilating as she stared up at him. At his expectant expression, she breathily replied, "Please. Please, Tom." At the sharp shake of his head, her eyes widened to the point of panic.

"I—"

"Who am I, pet?" He could feel so much through her throat. Her pulse was rapid against his fingers, and the muscles moved as she swallowed. He could even feel the vibrations of the little whimper she let out.

"Please, my lord," she breathed at last.

He nearly growled and he pushed her further onto the bed and tore the cotton from her body. She gasped and he shoved against her shoulders until she laid flat on her back, head turned so she could hungrily watch as he pried her thighs apart. His eyes trailed up and down her body and leaned forward to smell her arousal before finally running his tongue up her slit. She jumped at the sensation and he viciously slapped down where he'd licked. The choked sound she made then was among the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard. "You've been a good girl for me, haven't you, pet?" he said, fingers teasing at her lips. She nodded hurriedly. "You haven't let anyone touch you like this." The back and forth of her head amused him, how eagerly she let him know. He blew gently against her, then shoved two fingers inside.

She was tight, and he could feel the restriction from her still intact hymen there. Her back bowed off the bed, but she made no move to retreat even when she'd settled back again. He slowly moved his fingers in and out of her; his idea of foreplay was making a woman sob, but he was too large not to stretch them a little first. "So tight, my good little pet. Untouched, eager for me." His fingers pumped in and out, curling just a touch inside her. She was soon panting, hands gripping his hair when he lapped at her again. Once he was sure he could fit without hurting himself, he pulled out his fingers and propped himself above her.