The Demon and His Plaything

10| Rollercoaster

Samantha was admiring herself in the mirror when she heard the door open. She had her half hood on but not her blindfold. She snapped her hand to cover her eyes as she spun around to face the door. He was half an hour early and he was usually late.

She heard him drop his bag down and kick off his boots. She thought frantically where she'd put her eye covering, inching to where she thought she might have set it down.

Her heart thumped in anticipation. She hoped he liked her attire. This time her body was sleekly covered a long sleeved latex body suit. It was tight and high collared. Openings, accessible via zips and loops for holding her in place were strategically placed. It constricted her like she liked without the rope. Afterall the rope was her thing. She knew he wanted something else tonight.

"Put your hands down," he ordered. His voice sounded strained. "I want you to see me."

His tone spoke to her wolf. An undercurrent of need beyond her understanding. Her hands trembled as she slid them from her face allowing herself to see him and for him to see her eyes.

She held her breath. He was beautiful. Like a Venus fly trap. Her whole body trembled as he walked towards her. His jacket was discarded and she could now see his lithe physique, smooth under his black t-shirt. Seeing him brought a reality to what she was doing, she had been able to ignore. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Samantha cast her gaze down and held herself very still.

Godrick moved with unnatural grace, flowing forward and gripping her jaw, tilting her chin up and forcing her to look at him. "Look at me."

She obeyed.

He exhaled as he studied her eyes. "Take the hood off."

"Please, sir." Her voice broke.

"Why not?"

Her eyes shifted down again as she shook her head, his hand softening against her face. How could she explain something she didn't understand herself? That without this she couldn't be who she really was. She needed a mask to be free. "I'm not the same without it."

"Look at me." His grip tightened again.

Her eyes darted back to him. They swept his face, seeing the tension in his set jaw and the burning in his intense azure eyes. She thought there may have been flecks of indigo there…

Something seemed to snap in him, his mouth crashing into hers. She surrendered to him, his mouth dominating hers. He scooped her up, her legs automatically wrapping around him.

He walked her to the bed and threw her down. She sprung up to her hands and knees, keeping low. Her eyes followed him as he removed his shirt–she wanted to see every inch in him.

"Do you think you deserve my attention?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. But please…"

"Please, what?" His hands undid his belt and the top button of his jeans.

Excitement coursed through Samantha, Godrick's progression feeling like everything was back on track despite the mess up with the blindfold. "Please take me. Control me"

He stopped undressing. He was thinking, his eyes raking over her. He rubbed his jaw and took a step back from the bed.

She whimpered at his hesitation, tears springing to her eyes. She felt pulled taught. Seeing him made her more present. Made it more real. "Please…"

"Come here." He pointed at the edge of the bed. She crawled to where he pointed, sitting back on her heels, and clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Do you know what you put me through last night?"

The question pulled the air from Samantha's lungs. A sense of guilt at the pain that flickered across his face burned in her belly. She nodded. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

"That right?" He chewed his lip, his face flicking from her eyes to her lips. "Did you like his c**k in you?"

She hesitated and that was answer enough. He groaned and turned away from her.

"Tell me what you did."

She spoke to his back relaying everything that happened with Derek, including the morning handjob but omitted the marking. She didn't know if he would be happy with her already being marked–in any case he couldn't see the mark on her with what she was wearing and she felt no need to tell him.

His breathing became rapid as her night was laid before him. The rapidly tensing and untending of the muscles across his back mesmerized her, his shoulder blades moving with his harsh breaths.

She reached out and touched him, scared of what he would do but compelled to feel him.

He relaxed under her touch, the tension slipping away as she moved her hand up his back, using both her hands to glide over his flesh and rub the muscles in his neck and shoulders, raising up on her knees. On impulse she licked him up his spine. Biting the back of his neck a little bit.

He let her turn him around, her hands immediately moving to his zip. He was hard. Had her description of her time with Derek excited him?

She helped him wiggle out of his jeans, until he was standing there in tight boxers. She bit her lip not to smile as her curiosity was sated.

"Did you let him put his c**k in your mouth?" He cupped her face.

She shook her head. "No, sir. I only did what I told you. What you told me to do."

"I didn't tell you you could cum."

She frowned, that was true. Though, she didn't think she could have stopped herself though, especially when they marked each other.

"Maybe your punishment should be that I don't let you c*m tonight." His other hand started to explore her chest, feeling her through the rubber fabric, pushing and pinching where the zips covered her n*****s.

A small sad sound, a dog-like noise she couldn't stop, whined from her thoat. "If you say so, sir."

She tucked her hands under her chin, mainly to stop herself from touching him without his express permission.

He unzipped one of her breasts, teasing her as he watched her face. "Maybe you can earn it."

"Yes, please, sir… thank you, sir." She nodded eagerly, inching so close to the edge of the bed she was close to toppling off. She felt such panicked desperation to please him.

"Mouth."

She tilted her face to him, stretching her body up. His hand wrapped around her throat as he devoured her mouth. More small noises emitted from her, these ones of eager enjoyment, his own breathy sounds charging them.

He opened the remaining zips, her taking over the groin zip to open through to the back.

"f**k," he whispered looking down at her. "You get this especially for me?"

"Yes, sir." Her hands itched to do something. She wanted to touch him–see her hands as they glided over his flesh, wondering idly if she could ask him to tie them behind her back.

As if he read her mind, but more likely he saw how they kept fluttering about only for her to pull them, clasped together, against her, he asked, "Do you want to touch me?"

"Yes, please sir."

He took her hands and set them on his chest. He watched her face as her eyes trailed where her hands went, first across his chest feeling the softness of his n*****s. Her fingers traced the centre down his abdomen, her hands parting to trace the shape of his adonis belt.

She looked up for permission to continue, which he gave silently.

Licking her lips, she pushed the waistband of his boxers down. She didn't ask before she took him in her hands, her eyes flicking up quickly before backing her lower half up so she could get low. He just watched her, an unreadable expression on his face.

Laying on her stomach, propping herself on her elbows she took him in her mouth. He let her set the pace, standing firm.

"Look up at me." His hand cupped the back of her head but he put no force behind it.

She forced her eyes to stay on his face, tilting her head back and opening her throat as a result. She squirmed with the knowledge of how much she was pleasing him–his facial expression and panting telling her what she needed to know. The way his jaw moved.

"You're my good girl, aren't you?"

She moaned her yes.

"Show me how much you love my cock."

She wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled her to him. He made a surprised groan, both from her strength and also the way she pulled him into her mouth to his hilt, she pulled her head back only enough to create friction. She didn't let go, intent on pleasing him.

"Baby, stop," he gasped.

She pulled back, swallowing her excess saliva. He had pulled back from her, a strange look on his face. "Was that good?"

"Yes." But he was shaking his head. He pulled her back up to kneeling and took her face in his hands. He was looking into her eyes, a questioning look on his face.

Wide eyed didn't begin to describe Samantha. Seeing Godrick was heightening the emotional connection that wasn't quite there in their first scenes. She felt that Godrick felt it too. She could see how his eyes darkened, obviously going to a bad place in his mind.

“Did I do something wrong?” Samantha asked in a small voice. This scene didn't feel as smooth as the others. She wasn't sure if it was because she could see or because of the heavy knowledge of her time with someone else the previous night.

Godrick chewed his bottom lip, no answer forthcoming. Samantha curled her hands up and around his shoulders, waiting for his next order. Her eyes were wide, captivated by the sweeping emotion she saw ripple across his beautiful face.

“Maybe.”

Samantha's bottom lip warbled. She didn't feel things like other people. Most of the time everything was experienced at an arms reach. Detached and analytical. This wasn't.

In reaction to her evident concern, his face twisted in anguish for just a second before he pulled her harshly to him. His lips forced hers open, claiming her tongue with his kiss. She wound her hands into his hair. The texture of his hair at her fingertips, the sensation of massaging his scalp, created a curling enjoyment in her. She stopped abruptly, realising she was focusing on pleasing herself, where she hadn't earned that yet. Focusing on him instead, she shifted her hands down to hold his hard shaft, looping her fingers around his tip. Her instinct was to please him physically, the only thing she felt like she knew to do.

Godrick broke their kiss, twisting his face away, his arms still holding her but holding back. The timing froze her hands.

After a tense few seconds, Samantha touched his face. Her voice was barely above a breath, “What can I do to make it better?”

He pulled back, angry now, pushing her away from him. He pulled his underwear up and walked over to his bag.

She curled up on her front, tucking her knees and elbows in. She saw him glance at the mirror–she had put it in the same position as last time–assuming he'd want it there. She could see he stared at himself as he walked past it, a look of absolute disgust on his face. She flinched.

He yanked the bag open, throwing things out, either looking for something in particular or unhappy with the items in it. He gave a frustrated yell causing her to flinch again. He threw the bag against the wall, stalking off to the bathroom.

He was gone for a long time. She slithered off the bed and packed the items away. Some of the items brought more melancholy over her, seeing what he planned and she had ruined it. Crawling around, she collected his clothes and folded them, placing them outside the closed bathroom door.

Confusion flooded her mind. She had no way to know if he had had these ranges of emotion the last times and she just hadn't realised without seeing him. The thought didn't even cross her mind. All she knew was that he was displeased with her and she didn't know what she did wrong.

She wasn't sure if she should leave so she crawled back to the bed, pulling the covers up and slipping under. She curled into a ball in the middle of the bed. She started to cry silently, attempting to sniff quietly under her half hood.

~*~

Godrick splashed water in his face. What the f**k was he even doing? Did he want her to be his w***e or his virgin?

He couldn't get past that she had been with someone only the previous night but at the time it turned him on like crazy. He both worried he wouldn't compare and wanted to hear her as she screamed from being f****d by her fiance.

He couldn't reconcile his voyeurism with his jealous possessiveness. Their time together was supposed to be fun and about gratification. Every minute he spent away from her drove him mad but having her with him now was overwhelming. It made him uncertain of her feelings for him. How much of it was the act?

Sitting on the edge of the bath, he took a few purposeful breaths. He wanted her completely. He didn't want just a weekly f**k. He could share her, surprised the idea appealed to him.

He'd felt so assured the night before that her giving herself to someone else was for him. That Godrick was still all she could ever really be happy with. All the talk had been part play, but in the harsh reality, what was his place with her? He needed to know she wanted him. It wasn't enough that she just obeyed him. He needed proof this wasn't all just a game with her. He needed to know that she was this for him only–that she couldn't just switch him out for someone else.

The removal of the blindfold was a step. Not one she chose but one she'd embraced quickly. Her eyes were amazing. He'd never seen such big eyes. The kaleidoscope of green shades was hypnotizing. He could see her eyebrows were a dark rusty brown. He could now imagine her hair colour under the hood.

He wasn't going to force her to take it off for him. He thought he understood why she didn't want to remove it–he wished he had a way to be someone else.

There was something she could give him. Another step. He needed her name.

With a big inhale he got up and opened the door. He saw his pile of clothes on the floor, which he stepped over. He had a moment of concern that she had left but his eyes fell quickly on her shape under the doona.

The small sound of her sniff compelled him forward.

He caught himself in the mirror again. He knew he was good-looking. And he knew why demons were often good looking, and it went beyond just the genetics of parents. They had to be so people would trust them. That's what his mother had told him. When she told him of his heritage, Godrick had asked about his father. He figured he must look like his dad, asking if he did indeed, considering he didn't look much like his darker skinned mother. She had said it was so that Godrick could be a better predator–like his father. She wouldn't share any other details about him.

He sneered and returned his attention to his darling pet.

She stiffened as he leant on the bed, reaching to put his hand on her.

"Baby, come out." He tried to keep his voice strong. He had to get himself under control. He hadn't had quite the loss of temper like this in a while.

She hastily came out, crawling to him and curling up over her knees. She kept her puffy red eyes down. "I'm sorry, sir." She curled her hands in. He thought the pose was like how a cat or dog would lay. A sphinx. "I'll do better," she continued when he didn't say something. "Please. I will fix it, sir."

He couldn't help just watching her, entranced by how her lips trembled. Her large eyes filled with more tears, spilling over her lids like waterfalls, splashing down over her mask and bathing her lips. He could see tears slip into her mouth.

"Tell me how…" she bawled when he still didn't talk.

He bent and kissed her salty mouth. She opened for him, taking a hiccupping breath.

He uncurled her, rolling her onto her back under him. He pulled back to look at her, the tears were still streaming, pooling at the lip of the eye holes of the mask before spilling down the side of her head.

"Close your eyes."

~*~