Page 90 of Inked in Bloom
No one else around here aside from me and Briar.
“What if I need to speak with the Radix?” I keep my tone as even as possible despite the bond and its desire warring within me to kick her out and take myself to pleasuretown.
Her brow furrows at the clipboard. “You opted on your form for no contact.”
“I also opted for inhibitors”—I shrug—“but here we are.”
Zelda’s lips press into a firm line and her attention shifts to the wall in front of me. She flips through a few more papers on her clipboard.
“To speak with him…” She walks over to the corner and points to a long vine hanging halfway down from the ceiling. “You’ll need to pull this to deactivate the privacy glamour. While we understand your needs may change, the barrier itself is unable to be removed to ensure we honor your request for seclusionpriorto solstice.”
“Thank you,” I say. My cheeks flame, considering I’ve already broken my no-Briar-shenanigans rule.
“Of course. And please make sure to fill out the feedback card on your way out.” She smiles, presses the button beside the dangling vine, and then exits.
The moment she’s gone and I’m alone in silence, the aching desperation building between my legs amplifies. I toss the blankets off me and sit on my knees, inspecting the toys. Something black and shiny pulls my attention from the hook on the wall. I spring out of bed and grab it, burying my nose in the leather. Even though being naked feels better, I can’t help but drape the jacket over my shoulders when I climb back onto the mattress.
Reaching for my flower-shaped vibrator, I pick it up, flipping it on. It buzzes against my palm and I feel iteverywhere. The promise of relieving the aching pressure in my pelvis is all I can think about.
I lean back on the edge of the circular bed and spread my knees wide. While I could tease and torment, I don’t. I go right to the source. The vibrator whirs with steady sucks, drawing my pleasure to its pinnacle in less than a minute.
My brows lift. “That was easy enough.”
I’d built it up in my mind from the pamphlet that I’d become some mindless, needy sex beast. Satisfied by my impressive self-control, I head to the fridge and grab some macarons, popping one into my mouth and holding another two in my palm.
Thunk.
Something drops into the ice chest, and I squint, trying to see what it looks like through the base of the tube. Kneeling down, I open the door, spotting a series of opalescent bulbs that are capped at the top. I nibble my bottom lip. Popping one macaron and then another, I reach in and take a bulb out, turning it over.
A shimmering liquid snakes down the sides. I twist off the lid and lean closer. My brows furrow. It smells…sweet?
Dipping my finger inside, I swipe some and rub it between my pointer finger and thumb. My pelvis shifts,body clenching on air. The need to be filled and clamped around something thick and hard…
Shit.
Guess I spoke too soon on solstice being easy to manage. Right now it feels more like an insurmountable level of horniness I won’t overcome.
Actually, overcomingsounds like the perfect plan.
I hurry back to the bed and scan the rest of the toys on the tabletop. When I get to the thick white dildo, I pick it up and inspect it closer. The moment my hand encircles the shaft, I groan, eyes drawing skyward. My hips thrust with abandon, and I drop the dildo onto the bed.
“What the fuck?” I stare at the seemingly innocuous dick, hips still pulsing. It looks like it would feel so fucking good. After the initial stretch of getting something that size inside me, that is. And for some reason, the thought fills me with glee despite its girth.
Grabbing the base, I sit back and don’t even manage to slide it between my legs before an orgasm punches into me with a force that could rip me apart.
And I want it to.
Stars burst in my vision, endorphins rushing my veins. My back arches and?—
Holy shit.
Sucking in a breath, I flip to my side. I hug my arms around myself, rocking through the ecstasy, realization sinking in as I steady my breaths.
This isn’t me.
I mean, my body feels it. Every sensation is real. But the orgasm that just bulldozed my composure—I’m certain it belongs tohim. I exhale slowly, grateful for a reprieve of his post-climax comedown.
Crawling across the floor, my knees sting, but I ignore itand reach up for the hanging vine with both hands, tugging it down to my chest. In a flash, the wall covering evaporates.
