Authors: Reed James
“Damn, Corrigan,” he muttered.
“Umm, a little pain always spices things up,” she purred, leaning back and peeling off her tight shirt, exposing her round breasts. His hands seized them, squeezing hard. She groaned and shuddered, her eyes falling around the room.
She spied a roll of lacy ribbon sitting on the dresser.
Gunnar groaned as she rose from him, his eyes locked on her ass in her skinny jeans. She rolled her hips as she walked to the dress, savoring his hungry gaze. She reached the dresser, unsnapping her jeans. With a shimmy of her hips, her tight jeans worked down, exposing her bubbly ass.
“Oh, yeah,” Gunnar groaned, his hand squeezing at his bulging cock in his jeans.
She grabbed the roll of lace ribbon. “Gunnar...have you ever been tied up before?”
“No.” He frowned at her.
“It's such a rush,” she purred, turning and unwinding a length of ribbon before her naked breasts. “To give up control, submitting to your lover. It's about trust.”
I need his trust. That's the easiest way to claim his stubborn, well-protected heart.
“I'm not sure I can trust you,” Gunnar admitted.
“Look at this lace.” She snapped it taunt. “A big, strong man like you can easily snap it. It's only a game. If you're ever uncomfortable, we'll stop.” She strolled forward. “But it'll be so much fun. I'll make you feel pleasure you've never experienced. The passion will consume you in ecstasy. You won't be able to think.”
Something glimmered in his multicolored eyes. He wanted to forget his pain. He wanted to surrender to ecstasy.
“Fine,” he muttered, falling back on the bed.
“You'll love it,” Corrigan promised, kneeling on the bed, crawling to his strong body. His eyes were hungry on her swinging breasts. He reached out, cupping one, pinching her nipple. “Bad boy,” she admonished, slapping his hand away. “No touching for you.”
She seized his right hand, sucking on his fingers. He groaned, his hips thrusting up, his cock straining to burst from his tight jeans. She stretched his arm taut, placing it against the headboard. She slipped the lace about his thick wrist, tying it tight to the bed.
“Umm, you're so strong, but you're submitting to me,” Corrigan purred, pulling his left arm to the bed. “That's so sexy.”
“You're sexy,” Gunnar groaned as the lace pulled tight, binding him to the bed.
“Mistress,” she added. “When you're tied up, I'm you're Mistress.”
Gunnar arched an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his lips.
She reached down, her hand rubbing his hard cock through his jeans as she nuzzled at his ear. “You need to show some respect, slave.”
Gunnar snorted with laughter. “Slave?”
“It's a game, Gunnar,” she pouted. “You need to play along.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Please, Mistress. I need to be touched.”
He sounded so insincere. But her magic wound about his heart, growing tighter. The more he said Mistress, the more he would believe it. She would own him fully before he even realized that he had surrendered his soul to her.
“You can do better. Beg to pleasure me. Get into the fun. Roleplay.”
“Mistress, would you let me pleasure you?”
“Hmm, better,” she purred, straightening up and straddling his face. “If you do a good job, slave, I might play with your cock.”
“Might?”
“Do a good job, and I will play with you,” she promised as she settled her hips on his face.
Gunnar's stubbly lips nuzzled the folds of her pussy. Last night, he had feasted on her, showing such skill. She groaned as his tongue licked through her folds, nuzzling and caressing her. Corrigan moaned, loving his tongue. He was far better than her familiar Evan.
“Worship Mistress's pussy,” Corrigan groaned, her hips undulating, rubbing across his hungry lips. His tongue licked and sucked, working through the furrows of her sex. She shuddered, arching her back and letting him devour her.
“Oh, yes, Gunnar,” she panted. “Umm, that's it. Put that tongue to use. I love it! Umm, you know what I like! Oh, Gunnar. Oh, yes!”
The headboard creaked as his arms pulled at the bonds. He became lost to the excitement, working his mouth deeper and harder into her folds. He found her clit, nuzzling and sucking, driving her wild with bliss.
Her fingernails bit into his stomach, scratching across his rippling abs. He moaned into her lips, the pain spurring him to work even faster. She savored his submission even if he was only playing at it. This was a start.
“You're doing so good, slave. You're making your Mistress so happy.”
Her fingers played with his jeans. They snapped open. The zipper rasped, exposing his boxers. She pushed her hands inside, grasping his cock. She wanted to squeeze hard, to grip his balls and crush them between her hands.
Don't go too fast.
She leaned over, her hard nipples brushing his stomach as she opened her mouth. She swirled her tongue about the tip of his cock. He shuddered, salty precum leaking out, coating her mouth. She stroked him as she teased his crown.
“You're doing so good. You've earned your reward, slave,” Corrigan moaned. “When you please your Mistress, she gives you pleasure.”
Gunnar's tongue shot into her pussy when she engulfed his cock. She sucked hard, bobbing up and down as the pleasure shuddered through her body. Gunnar knew how to master a pussy, making her sex hum with passion. She shuddered, grinding her clit across his hungry lips, the pleasure swelling.
Corrigan sucked hard when she came.
The wave of icy bliss rushed through her. She bucked on his face, smearing her juicy pussy around his hungry lips. He drank her down, savoring her passion. His hips thrust, sliding his cock into the depth of her mouth as she shuddered.
Her hands massaged his balls, fighting the urge to crush them.
“Mistress!” Gunnar moaned, his orgasm building. “Oh, yes!”
His mouth nuzzled at her pussy, not licking hard, letting her orgasm die down. His touch was light, just stirring trembles of bliss through her as she bobbed her mouth. She sucked harder, swirling her tongue around his tip.
Gunnar grunted into her pussy and spilled his hot seed into her lips.
Corrigan shuddered. It was a great first step to dominating him fully.
~ ~ ~
Maeve was barley aware as she lay in the shelter of her rose bushes. The puddle of muddy water evaporated slowly about her in the pale, October sun. She shivered, her fires almost gone. Her despair robbed her body of color.
Only for a heartbeat, when Gunnar had stared at her rose bushes, had a spark flared inside her. She forced herself to turn her head. He had been watching her, somehow seeing through the tangled mass of rose thorns. His sight was above that of other Mortals. All day people had walked through the green, often accompanied by dogs. The dogs all barked at her, sensing her inside the bushes, but their master's were not nearly as observant. But Gunnar was the Mortal Champion even if he didn't realize it. He had stood next to the lone boulder, staring at her. He had taken a step forward, and her heart had raced, but then he had fled.
The new flame had snuffed out inside her breast.
She looked back up at the sky, watching a new line of clouds drift in from the southwest. She didn't care as the first drops of rain splattered her. The storm was brief, adding another quarter inch to her puddle, the icy water beading off her pale flesh.
Professor Webster trooped by the rose bushes. The old woman, her hair pulled back into a gray bun, paused to stare at the rose bushes. Maeve didn't care. The professor shook her head and kept walking, stalking into the school.
A second storm swept in near evening, the world growing dark as a light drizzle, almost a fog, caressed her skin. Maeve didn't feel it. Her senses retreated in on herself as her mind was swallowed up by her mistakes.
Chapter Three: Choice
Gunnar walked out of his apartment. He didn't want to go to school today. But he had to. He had to put Maeve behind him. She never showed up yesterday. Gunnar had spent all day Sunday with Corrigan, most of it with his wrists tied.
There was a strange freedom in surrendering. Gunnar didn't have to act. He could just lay there and let Corrigan use him for both their pleasure. He had cum hard several times, whether into her sucking mouth or her tight pussy.
“Come on,” he shouted as he waited by the stairs. “We're going to be late.”
“Just a sec,” she called back.
Gunnar frowned. He wasn't sure what Corrigan was to him.
Is she my girlfriend?
That word didn't feel right to him.
What is Corrigan? An easy lay? A fuck buddy?
Corrigan had professed her love in the excitement after the attack Saturday night.
Did I sweep her off her feet by defending her?
“Mr. Agnarsson?” a man asked.
Gunnar blinked. “Detective Duffy?”
Detective Duffy walked up the stairs. He was a weedy man with a thin face, his red hair going gray. Gunnar had met the detective the night Maeve had been stabbed. The detective stopped before Gunnar on the stairs, extending his hand. Gunnar grasped it.
Duffy had a firm grip.
“What's going on, Detective?” Gunnar asked.
“Just wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes,” Duffy said.
“Sure,” Gunnar shrugged. “Is this about what happened at the sorority.”
“It is. When was the last time you saw Maeve Rose?”
A flash of the monstrous Maeve filled his mind, followed by the sad image of her crying amid the rose bushes. “Saturday night. Around five at the sorority.”
“And why haven't you filed a missing person on your fiancee?”
“She's not my fiancee. We broke up on Saturday.”
The detective frowned. “I see. And can you tell me your whereabouts Saturday evening.”
“I was at a, um, friend's house.”
Corrigan stepped out of the Apartment, slipping up beside Gunnar, her arm going around his waist. “Hi. I'm Corrigan.”
“Detective Duffy.” The cop's eyes flickered over Corrigan. “And this is the, uh, friend you were with?”
Gunnar nodded, his cheeks burning with shame as judgment entered the detective's eyes.
“And what's your last name, miss?”
Corrigan frowned. “Who are you?”
“He's a detective. Investigating Maeve.”
“Oh, she's crazy.” Corrigan shuddered. “She threatened to kill me once if I didn't stay away from Gunnar.”
“Really?” Duffy blinked. “And what's your last name?”
“Leennshed,” Corrigan answered.
The name tickled Gunnar's mind. He had heard it somewhere before.
Probably in class.
The detective frowned again. “Leennshed, huh. That's an unusual name.”
“It's Irish.”
“Course,” he nodded. “And what's your address?”
Corrigan gave the address out in Gig Harbor. “It's my grandmother's house. I'm taking care of it while she's on a cruise.”
“What a nice thing to do,” Duffy smiled. “If you do see Maeve, give us a call. We really need to speak to her about what happened at the sorority.”
“Do you think...she was involved?” Gunnar asked.
“I really can't comment.” Duffy paused. “Do
you
think she was involved?”
“I...I think so. She's shown herself...capable of great anger.”
Corrigan shuddered, clinging tighter to Gunnar.
“Okay. Well thanks for talking to me.” Duffy produced a card. “I think I gave you one already, but if you think of anything, give me a call.”
“Sure, Detective.”
“Well, I'll let you get to class.”
“It's so hard to believe that she could be so dangerous,” Gunnar sighed, slipping the card into his pocket. “If I hadn't seen her that night...”
“People are never what you think.”
“Even you?” Gunnar asked.
“Oh, no, I'm an open book.”
I doubt that.
“Come on, let's get to school.” Corrigan pulled him along by the arm.
They walked to school. The clouds were gray overhead, but not dark, and no rain fell on them. Corrigan clung to his arm, walking fast, almost pulling him along. They cut through the green, Gunnar's eyes falling on the rose bush.
Maeve was still in there, crushed by sadness.
He took a step towards her. Corrigan pulled his arm. He didn't fight. It was easier to just forget about Maeve. To bury his hurt with whatever comfort Corrigan provided. He tried not to think about Maeve. It only brought guilt and confusion.
“Coffee?” Gunnar asked as they stepped into the Student's Commons.
“Sure,” Corrigan said, giving him a kiss, then she sauntered over to sit down on a table.
Gunnar stood in line at Faighland Coffee, waiting for his turn to get a cup.
Maeve always loved coffee. She was so energetic after...
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought to banish her smiling face framed by fiery curls.
The line moved, and he ordered two drinks, moving off to the side to wait for the barista to whip up their coffees.
“Oh, thank god, Gunnar,” a woman gasped.
Gunnar turned to see blonde Felicity striding up, her hair in pigtails. She threw her arms around Gunnar's neck, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Hi, Felicity,” he said, hugging his friend, and sometimes lover, back.
“Have you seen her?” Felicity's blue eyes were wide and trembling.
“No,” Gunnar answered. “Not since...Saturday night. I don't think I'll be seeing her again.”
Tears beaded in her eyes. “I still can't believe it. That night was crazy. I was so scared.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Gunnar nodded. “I saw her too. Just terrifying.”
“The way the thing drained the life from Magda...” Felicity shuddered.
“Here's your drinks, sir,” the bubbly barista said, handing Gunnar both cups. He took them, sipping from one. “Thanks.”
Felicity walked beside him as he headed over to Corrigan. “So you don't think Maeve's coming back?”
“No.” If that was really Maeve in the rose bushes, she seemed broken. “She won't try to hurt you?”
“Hurt me?” Felicity blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Umm, coffee,” Corrigan purred, standing up. She took the other cup and gave Gunnar a kiss on the lips.