Dangerously Happy (10 page)

“
Yes, of course.” I said it effusively, eager to reciprocate his openness.

“
What’s your dirtiest fantasy? Something you’ve never dared to do. Something you’d never even dare to ask for.” I felt so put on the spot I couldn’t have come up with one of my fantasies even I’d been in a confessing mood. Again, that patient smile of his that made me feel like I was getting a hug. “I just asked you to consider telling me. You don’t have to say anything tonight.”

“
They’re all obvious. Banal.”

Now he looked amused. “Whose fantasies aren’t?”

“
They’re all about women.”

“
I know.”

“
Alright. So one is . . .” Why was it so hard to say it? After all the lines I’d already crossed with him? Of course, it would have been completely impossible to tell Avalyn anything like that. By comparison, with Dario, it was almost easy.

I tried again. “I’m in a room. Like a cell, really. It’s pitch black. Impossible to see anything. Maybe it’s dark like that all the time, or maybe just sometimes. But it’s pitch black whenever someone comes in, so I never know who she is, what she looks like, how old she is. It could be the same woman every time, or it could be a different woman each time. But I can’t know, because I never see her, or them, and she never talks, so I can’t tell by her voice. And maybe my hands are tied—it’s not really about being forced or helpless. It’s just about not being able to tell who it is, or if it’s just one woman or a long series of different women, so I can’t touch, I can’t feel her body to know if she’s thin or fat, tall or short, young or old. And it’s not about me wanting it or not wanting it. But it’s just that I know that she—or they—she needs me. Almost like life or death. Like it’s sustenance, as necessary as food. Or water. So when the door opens, and I hear her footfalls in the pitch black, I just give myself to her, like a duty.”

Dario’s hand encircling my cock. Not stroking, but just lightly embracing it in the curve of his fingers. “You fuck her.”

“
Kiss. Fuck. Come in her mouth. Eat her. Everything. And then she leaves, and I wait for the next one to come. Or for her to come back.”

“
Actually, that’s not banal at all.” He sounded thoughtful. “It’s kind of lovely, really. But I’m a hundred percent certain it’s not your dirtiest fantasy. Or you’re leaving out the dirty part.” He still wasn’t moving his hand on my cock, which was slowly expanding in the embrace of his gentle grip. “Don’t be shy. Now and then you get yourself off to something truly obscene. Confess.”

The way he said it, like he was hungry for it, his voice full of want, planted a little seed of want in me that seemed to sprout and grow and flower all in the space of a few seconds, and I pushed into his hand, pleading for him to move, to stroke me.

“
Be still. Confess.”

My dick was rock hard in his hand, now.

“
I’m ashamed of the other one.”

“
Good. Now I’m really eager for it,” he sighed.

How could he have me so desperate less than an hour after we’d fucked? I could barely keep myself from pumping my hips toward his warm but cruelly static grip. “There’s a woman. Very young. A servant in a mansion or maybe a castle. A cliché setup for her powerlessness, I guess. She’s innocent. Not just a virgin, but, you know, she doesn’t expect anything shameful to happen to her. But out of nowhere, while she’s serving dinner or polishing the mahogany table, the master of the house or the lord of the castle has her bend over the table, and he watches as one of the male servants or a male visitor from a nearby property lifts the back of her dress and her slip or her petticoats, then pulls her underwear down, and fucks her. And then the master has another man fuck her the second the first one is finished. It’s not like they’re raping her. She’s not crying, or in any pain. But she’s humiliated. She feels ashamed to have her ass and her cunt bared to the master, who’s just standing there being a voyeur, and more than anything she’s ashamed that she’s wet—”

After a few seconds of silence, Dario's gentle embrace of my cock loosened until I almost couldn't feel him touching me. “You stop, I stop,” he taunted.

Suddenly I felt too awkward to go on. “I don't know if—”

Now he gave my cock a rousing squeeze that instantly defeated any ebb in my arousal precipitated by my embarrassment. “What don't you know, Aidan?”

Christ, I loved hearing him say my name in that intimate tone. It made me feel so wanted. It made me feel like I belonged to him. Owned. And I loved it, which was strange considering how I'd bristled under Avalyn's possessive stranglehold for almost two years.

“
I don't want to be overly graphic if it's . . . gross to you.”

His low, easy laugh. “I don't fuck women. But nothing about them is gross to me. Say it. Show me the images in your head.” A faint, brief caress of my cock made me gasp.

“
Her cunt is dripping with her own fluids, and now also with the semen of the two, or three or four men the master’s given her to.”

I couldn’t say the next part. I was sorry I’d even started, because it felt like such a pathetic cop-out to quit.

“
Baby, if you don’t tell me the rest,” Dario growled, squeezing, teasing my cock, “and if it doesn’t get dirtier than that, I’m going to keep you like this all night, without letting you come.”

I wanted the reward. I was fucking dying for him to stroke me off. Or better yet, go down on me the way he had the night before. I would have done pretty much anything if he’d told me the prize would be him letting me push my aching cock into his mouth. But I couldn’t get a fucking word out.

“
Where are you in this scenario?” he asked, giving my cock another taunting squeeze.

“
I’m a servant, too.”

“
Duty-bound.,” he teased.

“
Yes. Not a slave. Not really afraid of any particular punishment. Just, I have to do what I’m told.”

“
What are you told to do?”

My face burning, I told him, “The master, the one whose mansion it is, tells me to lick her clean.”

He started moving his hand, just a little. “What do you do?”

My need was so intense, and his touch was so tormenting I could hardly talk. “I walk over to her, where she’s bent over the table, with her skirts up, her ass and her cunt exposed, everyone looking at her. I go down on my knees behind her, so her cunt is just at the same height as my face, and I start to lick her.” He was really stroking me, now. Still too slowly and gently, so I had to fight myself to resist my urge to rub my cock against his hand. “The master tells me to undo my pants, to take out my cock, which is obviously hard. He tells me to stroke it while I clean her with my mouth.”

“
Do you do as he says?”

“
Yes.”

Dario took his hand from my cock, and I was on the brink of crying, I was so frustrated and needful, but then he grabbed the lube, and then wrapped his hand around my hard-on for real. “Then what?”

“
I start with her thighs. The insides of her thighs. They’re slick, sticky with her wetness and with the cum that’s dripped down.” Dario’s hand, slippery with lube, working over my cock. “I start licking her clean, inch by inch. Her left thigh, right up to the crease of her groin. Then her right thigh.”

“
And you’re stroking your cock while you do that?”

“
Yes.”

“
And the master is watching you lick her while you jerk off.”

“
Yes.”

“
Are the men who fucked her still there? Watching you too?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do you like it? Cleaning up that dirty mess with your mouth?”

“
Yes.”

“
What next?” Stroking me in earnest, making it hard to think, hard to speak.

“
I put my mouth to her cunt. She sort of whimpers, because the men all fucked her from behind, so when my tongue touches her clit, it’s the first real contact she’s felt there. And it’s a pleasure she’s never experienced before, being kissed there. I start licking, teasing her clit with my tongue sometimes, sometimes lapping up the wet mess seeping out of her, sometimes pushing my tongue as far up inside of her as it will go, my whole face pressed into her crotch.”

“
Is she going to come while you lick her?”

“
Yes. The men tease her about liking it, and her embarrassment turns her on even more.”

“
Tell me how you make her come.”

Dario’s hand stroking me, I was so close I could hardly think, hardly speak. “She’s never come before, so when it starts to happen, it startles her. When I hone in on her clit, when she feels the strange new feeling building up, she starts to squirm, trying to get away from my mouth because she’s ashamed of what’s happening to her. The master comes over, and just presses his hand down flat on the small of her back to hold her still, and he tells her to let me lick. He tells her that I’m going to make her come. With his hand on the small of her back like that, she can’t move, and she starts to whimper as I eat her, and then I feel her cunt spasm under my mouth, and hear her crying out, quietly, like she wants to be silent but can’t. I keep licking her, and she’s quivering, shuddering, almost like she’s seizing. Fuck, Dario, fuck,” I whimpered, ejaculating as his greased-up fist slid slowly up the length of my cock, milking me for every last drop of cum. And without a word, just coaxing me gently, he pushed me down toward his belly, and wanting to, lost in the haze between the confessed fantasy and the throb of my subsiding orgasm, I licked Dario’s stomach clean.

His lean belly quivered as I licked up the glistening threads and pearls of viscous, pungent semen, the line of dark hair above his navel matting down under my tongue. On purpose, because I wanted to know how it would feel, how I would feel, I let my cheek brush against the florid, swollen crown of his stiff cock. The rosy skin of that tumescent head felt like the softest, silkiest thing that had ever touched my face. Tempted, terrified, I feathered my lips over it, just once, almost as if I’d done it by accident. Dario sighed. Groaned, actually, then touched my chin and lifted my face to meet his gaze. His sweet smile. “I wasn’t asking for that, baby.”

“
I know.”

“
I mean it, I don’t want you to push yourself to do anything before you really, really want to.”

“
I know.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to really give him a blow job, but I was absolutely dying to just touch him a little with my mouth, to brush the tip of my tongue tentatively over the tip of his cock, see how it felt, see how it tasted. Maybe it wasn’t fair, maybe it was expecting way too much of his already strained patience, thinking it would be okay to mouth him a little, then stop, but I told myself it would be fine. I nuzzled into his hand, then kissed his belly, then brought my mouth back to the flushed, engorged head of his cock, and brought my lips just into contact, breathing in his spicy scent, feeling that impossible softness of that delicate skin against my lips. I thought he would sigh or groan again, but he was silent. So still, it seemed like he’d stopped breathing. Then he let out a strained, desperate little gasp when I parted my lips and touched him, just for a second, just lightly with my tongue. Such a different texture, that firm, silky flesh. Nothing like eating pussy, except for that unique but related musky scent and flavor. I took the tip of him in my mouth, drinking in his fretful grunt, bewildered and thrilled by the sensation of holding that fleshy bulb on my tongue, against the roof of my mouth, then sucking on it a little as I pulled it past my lips, tasting the little pearl of clear fluid that had seeped to the tip before I’d licked and sucked it away. Still not sure I was ready to really go for it, I drew him back into my mouth, exploring the smooth firmness of the head of his cock with my lips, my tongue, then exploring the sensation of sinking down on him a little further, feeling his hard girth gradually filling my mouth until the sensation of his cock against the very back of my tongue, almost at my throat, made my stomach clench suddenly and violently and I backed off, terrified I was going to retch.