Chapter 115 Safewords?
“At the start of our meeting, you advised me to never keep them apart.”
“That recommendation still holds. The two are soul mates, bound to one another. All the times you have tried to overwrite their destiny, they left to start all over.”
My eyes began to sting, much to my embarrassment. How much more did I have to endure?
I thought of my father then. That stern dragon who was absolutely loving with his family. He would be disappointed if he saw me now.
Dragons smarter than this.
It would not have taken my father three generations to learn from a baby-witch that the insistent lovers always pining after his wife were all the same person.
It would not have taken him over one week to realize the woman he cuddled to sleep was his wife of almost four hundred years. That the beautiful boy who could hardly stand him despite the sizzling sexual chemistry and love, had been his wife’s suitor all his life.
Three lifetimes. A royal guard he executed for treason, the farmer he had crushed, and the German he had humiliated tirelessly.
“So you confirm that Lys Astre Grunder is Nymphaea Ashborne.” My eyes were on the print sitting on my desk, opened to the page of the Spirit Helix which said the same thing.
“Yes.”
“And Finn Banville is her soul mate.”
“Yes.”
“You'll be compensated.” I pushed out of my seat. Dragons and witches have worked together for years, but I had a unique distaste for them and avoided them until it was absolutely necessary.
But I quite liked this one.
“You understand I have to do this right?” I stopped before Aribella, leaned down and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She gave me a nod.
With a sad sigh, I brought my hand up to her head. And in a blink, her body began to convulse in her seat as I burned all the memories from her mind.
Warmth spread round my chest when I walked through the bedroom door to find the ballerina at the exact spot I left her.
She glanced at me as I made my way to the bed and took a seat, staring down at her perfect, mostly naked body on my floor.
There was a war in my chest now. Warmth versus every other dark emotion that was familiar to me; fear, anger, confusion.
“Get up.” I stretched my hand out, and she took it.
I watched her rise to her knees, and then my eyes searched hers. Staring right in those stunning silver eyes that were strangely the exact shade of mine.
Wonderful. She decided to ditch her gold hair and green eyes for my own eye color this time. And on top of all that, a dancer? A freaking dancer!
“How do you feel?” my hand shot out, catching the tears that spilled over her right cheek. “Forgive me. I have been very mean, haven’t I?”
She cast her gaze to the floor, silent.
For a second, I found myself wondering if everyone was wrong despite this overwhelming evidence. Lys was nothing like Nymphaea. Not a trace of that arrogance, not a flash of the hot-tempered woman who sent dishes flying at my head.
“You’re so good.” I continued to gently stroke her cheek with my knuckles, studying how her body shivered. “You have been so good. Do you understand how much of a turn on that is?"
She gave me that look, that seductive look she was ignorant of. Because it was supposed to be a shy gesture. But my heart kicked now as she glanced at me from beneath the fringe of her dark lashes.
Damn me.
My heart. My damned heart. My heart recognized her before I did.
Why did I not know? How could I have missed such an important sign? Of course, only Nymphaea would be able to summon me with her heart, without even trying.
“This…” I lightly began to trace her cheek down to the curve of her throat. Her lips parted in an audible sound, her eyes reflected like glass with the last of her tears, and her skin, already pink from this prolonged state of arousal, turned a deep shade of red.
“H-aaa-aa.” she gasped loudly when the back of my hand brushed her tit. “Do they hurt?”
“No sir.”
“Just very sensitive, eh?”
“Yes sir.”
I pulled away, rose to my feet and headed for the closet. When I returned, she was still kneeling, back straight.
In that sheer shirt and the silk binding her breasts, she was a thrilling sight. A study in erotics. I turned to the bathroom, and paused at the doorway, staring at the lilies from the bouquet we got her yesterday, which she must have dotingly arranged in the glass jar.
Nymphaea.
I picked two sticks out and returned to the bedroom.
“This might hurt, pet. But not for long.” I dropped into a squat before her, holding her gaze.
If this was her reason for disguising in this lifetime, she won.
Even now, I still could not see Nymphaea. She was all Lys, sweet, obedient Lys who never spoke above a whisper. The woman who had always been eager to please me, and looked at me with awe every time.
I was in love with Lys. As much as I was with Nymphaea.
“Open your mouth, doll.” I slipped the stem of a lily sideways in her mouth and nodded for her to hold it with her teeth.
She did.
I smirked. She looked like a bird. A delicate, beautiful bird. For her, a lily was the most beautiful kind of gag.
"This is a fishing bell.” I ducked my head suddenly and licked her nipple, a soft touch that was barely there before moving.
She narrowly saved herself from falling back.
I could not even tease her. She was painfully sensitive after keeping her this way all morning.
Sinking my hand in my pocket, I pulled out the bells and slipped the first green and silver colored pegs onto her hardened nipple.
She was panting loudly, as if she was hiking up a trail.
”Or, more accurately, a modified version of a fishing bell.” I continued. “This is supposed to be safer.” I licked her other nipple, lingering a little longer this time till her thighs started to shake.
She was whispering incoherently at this point, squirming on her knees. But she knew to keep her legs apart or she would be punished.
“No safewords yet?”
She paused.
My hand hung, holding the other pair of pegs just before her nipple.
“No sir.” She said around the stem of flower on her teeth. I fitted the peg to her other nipple and took my place on the bed again.
“How many strokes do you think will get these pegs off?” I held up the stick of lily.
Her eyes went round in horror, and when I said, “Turn to the side, hands behind your head.”
She spoke through her gag, her words almost incomprehensible. “Please, it will hurt.”
“Then say chocolate.” I waited.
She stared at me for a second and turned sideways.
I was tempted to ask her why she had not safed out yet, but then the sight of her like this, on her knees, with her hands behind her, her breasts round and full with a sexy slight droop, her nipples like proud little points… it was too much.
With my dick straining in my pants, I flicked my wrist and whipped the bells attached to her nipples.
Lys moaned.