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Burying his face in my pussy, Victor takes deep breaths like a man on his first trip to the sea.
My pussy walls convulse, imploring him to impale me to the core. A cloud hazes over my eyes as my juices drip down into my ass, and I quiver in delight. Just as immense pleasure tips me over the edge, pain bites into my clit.
Tears form in my eyes.
“You . . . you . . .” Shocked, I glimpse the clamp squeezing my erect clit. Victor’s mouth plants onto mine, claiming the sputtering gasp.
His fragrant mouth captures my cry. Victor brings me down into a straddling position, legs instinctively wrapped around him as he sits on the ground. Tears fall from my eyes as I bury my face in the crook of his shoulder. Body shaking, I sigh like an addict thrown into the euphoric high of her first hit as he slams into me.
Victor’s all the support I have.
I need.
I’ll ever desire.
No other would comfort me the way he has, hurt me the way he has, and is,now.No other would compare to him. Wanting him to return my every affection is the worst feeling, worse than the clamp tightening around my hard pearl. But being in his arms, even if I’m uncertain of tomorrow or the day after or the day after that, is worth the frightening, fearful, exhilarating experience.
My cries of ecstasy dissolve into mews. Victor’s cock pumps inside of me. Torrents of heat erupt deep in my channel, and the friction of the clamp bites into my clit, washing me anew in ecstasy.
His lips find my forehead.
Torturing me by way of applying the pussy clamp wasn’t my punishment.
Reminding me how much I love him and how he has yet to return my affections?that is my punishment.
I have never felt such gut-wrenching pain in my life until his lips settle where I begged them not to.
31
Luxury
The day before Valentine’s, I’m cuddled into a chair with a knitted blanket enveloping me. The words of Momma’s diary seem to melt off the page as I struggle to pay attention.
A familiar voice travels down the hall, and I pop out of the seat, leaving the discarded journal.
I dart over the herringbone floors to the front doors where Victor’s little brother, Graham, is standing outside, telling a ridiculously outrageous story to Victor. A light-skinned woman is tucked under his arm. Her features are big, bold, and sexy as if she is of African descent. Yet, her hair is a sun-drenched gold, making me think of the Aboriginal people I learned about in Anthropology 101.
“No, Graham, that issonot true!” Her Australian tone rings with laughter.
“It is,” Graham assures, then sees me, “Oh, Luxury, there you are. Victor and Alba think I’moff mychump, but you’ll believe me when I tell you how we met.”
“Chump?” I ask.
He pulls me into a hug. “They say I’m crazy, but I did save Alba from an alligator.”
“How’d you save me from my ownpet?” Alba quips, her arms swooping around me in an equally bubbly hug.
“You all are happy to see each other,” Victor says nonchalantly.
“Shall I mention how Graham and I bonded the last time you discarded us like day-old meat? Does the rooftop nightclub in New York ring a bell?” I cock an eyebrow.
Graham gives a devilish grin, glance coasting from me to his date. “I’m in love with two women.”
Alba snorts. “How many times has he said that?”
“This is the first time, really,” Graham replies. “But Luxury makes it hard not to love her.”
“Not that I requireself-validation, but those twins would have got the better of both of you had I not intervened,” Victor retorts.
