Chapter Three
He didn't utter a single word; his silence was crueler than any threat. I felt him draw closer, the scent of his masculine cologne mixed with expensive tobacco invading my lungs and stealing my balance.
He reached out again, but this time it wasn't his fingers touching me I felt the chill of the metal from his ring as he trailed it with agonizing slowness over my skin, from the top of my chest down until it settled between my breasts.
My entire body jolted; those "intermittent touches" were pure torture. He placed his heavy palm over the lace covering my ass, pressing firmly for a few seconds.
I felt the heat of his hand piercing through the thin fabric, searing my skin, and then suddenly... he withdrew it.
I let out a muffled moan, my body writhing on the bed, my skin starving for his touch. "Please..." I whispered weakly, but he didn't respond.
I heard the sound of his calm, steady breaths over my face; he was savoring the sight of me burning with desire.
His finger returned, and this time he lightly dug his nail into the inside of my thigh, ascending with lethal slowness, brushing the delicate edges of my underwear.
I felt electricity strike my spine, my body slick with the intensity of ecstasy and anticipation.
When his fingers reached the area that was screaming for his touch, he stopped once more.
I gripped the iron of the bed with my shackled hands so hard that my veins bulged, arching my hips upward in a desperate attempt to meet his touch, but he recoiled.
I felt the cold air hit my flushed skin; he was intentionally leaving me like this, suspended between heaven and earth, feeding my instincts in small drops just to make me lose my mind completely.
In a hoarse voice thick with pleading and need, I said, "Why are you doing this? Touch me... don't stop!"
He made no sound; his silence was a weapon tearing at my nerves more than any lash. I felt his strong hands grasp the edges of my thin underwear, and with one calm, decisive motion, he stripped them from my body, leaving me completely naked at the mercy of his breath fanning my chilled skin.
My abdominal muscles contracted as I felt his finger approach my breast. He didn't touch me directly, but circled my nipple with excruciatingly slow, circular motions, grazing only the areola.
My head snapped back, my breath escaping in jagged gasps. My body craved that direct contact, and when his finger finally settled over the peaked nipple, he flicked it lightly, sending electricity through my entire spine.
But, as was his habit, he pulled his hand away abruptly.
Before I could process the void he left behind, the cold air was replaced by the heat of his hand sliding down with lethal slowness.
He trailed his finger along the length of my pussy, feeling the softness of my burning skin.
His touches were as light as a feather, yet as searing as embers. When he reached my clitoris, he began to stroke it with extreme gentleness calculated movements that made the pit of my stomach twist and my hips rose involuntarily from the bed, searching for more.
I was on the verge of exploding; a scream of climax was trapped in my throat, and at the moment I thought he would grant me release... he stopped.
His fingers froze completely, and he pulled his hand away, leaving me writhing on the sheets, my body trembling violently from the force of suppressed desire.
I opened my mouth to scream, to beg, but my voice came out as a desperate rasp: "Please... don't leave me like this... finish it..."
In that moment, while my body was burning with anticipation, I felt something entirely different. It wasn't the touch of his fingers this time, but a piercing cold that shocked my heated skin at my neck. It was a piece of ice, held skillfully between his lips, trailing with agonizing slowness down toward my chest.
The contrast was terrifying and maddeningly arousing; the freezing ice making my pores constrict, followed immediately by the heat of his warm lips chasing the trail of the melt.
My abdominal muscles contracted violently as he passed the ice over my nipple; I felt a sharp sting, as if needles of frost were piercing me, while his tongue followed the cold droplets of water as they ran down the curves of my body, wiping them away with searing warmth.
I was trembling, not from the cold, but from this sensory torture he was inflicting upon me. Shivers climbed from my feet to my head as he brought the ice down toward my lower belly.
The hard texture of the ice was melting slowly over my delicate skin, leaving behind a wet path that ignited the second his lips touched it.
When the piece of ice reached my pussy and grazed my clitoris with that sudden frigidness, I let out a muffled scream behind the black blindfold, and my back arched off the bed with force.
The sensation of lethal cold there, mingled with the heat of his breath hitting the area, was pushing me toward the edge of the abyss.
I thought he would leave the ice there to melt and burn me with its cold, but he suddenly pulled it away with his teeth, leaving me once again in a desolate void.
My body shuddered between two fires: the fire of the cold still dwelling on my skin, and the fire of desire devouring my insides.
"Why... why do you always stop?" I whispered weakly, as tears of suppressed desire began to soak the black fabric over my eyes.
A heavy silence prevailed, in which I could hear nothing but the frantic beating of my heart.
Suddenly, his mellow voice cut through the stillness a deep voice, charged with an irrefutable authority. He spoke as he leaned close to my face, until I felt his breath caress my skin:
"Do you want to see... or to feel?"
I swallowed hard, my body trembling under the weight of desire and a lethal curiosity to know who this demon was. I answered in a hoarse voice thick with need: "I want both..."
I heard a low, cold chuckle that sent a shiver racing down my spine. He spoke in a firm tone: "Wrong answer... choose only one."
I closed my eyes behind the black blindfold; my body was burning, and the heat in my lower belly had become unbearable.
I didn't care about seeing as much as I cared about extinguishing this fire he had ignited with his intermittent touches. I whispered helplessly: "I want you to touch me..."
He didn't wait long. I felt his large, powerful hand slowly and steadily part my thighs, and then his fingers settled at my pussy.
He began to stroke the folds of my pussy with extreme tenderness, trailing his fingertips over that sensitive, wet skin, exploring my folds as if he had owned them since the beginning of time.
His touches made me arch involuntarily, my moans filling the room.
Suddenly, I felt his head drop between my legs. I froze in place as the heat of his tongue brushed directly against my clitoris.
He began to lick my pussy with confident, long strokes, boldly sucking my lips in a way that made me lose my mind. His tongue moved with diabolical skill, teasing my clitoris one moment and diving slowly inside the next, causing me to grip the iron of the bed with my shackled hands so hard my bones nearly snapped.
I was writhing beneath him, my head thrashing against the pillow from side to side, while the wet sound of his tongue devouring my pussy echoed in my ears like the most beautiful, forbidden symphony. "Ahhh..." The scream tore from my depths as he concentrated his licking on my clitoris, igniting a fire I never knew existed, leaving me to drown in a sea of pure pleasure created by this stranger.