Ink: Coven of Desire

This erotic story excerpt by Ellen Mint from Ink: Coven of Desire was originally published by Totally Bound and is a finalist in the Good Sex Awards Best Feminist Sex Category. Show it some love and vote for this story in the Readers' Choice awards by 20 June.

Best Feminist Sex
Finalist Best Feminist Sex Good Sex Awards

Ink yanked off my pants while I helplessly clutched at my shoulders. The man lowered to a knee as if this were a perverse proposal, his gaze on me while I struggled to breathe. Still, I couldn’t escape the raw power of his body, his muscles straining as he posed. Each line and swell begged for first my eye, my hand and my mouth. But I remained where he left me, standing only in the black thong with Witchy in green letters on the butt.

“How delightful,” he murmured, first tugging on the strap along my hips then sliding around to my ass. Ink dug his fingers in, spreading the cheeks until his tips glanced against the pucker hidden inside. A zap ripped through my body, this one sharp and focused, raising the panic that wouldn’t leave. But before he did something stupid like thrust into me without lube, Ink worried his fingers between the lace of my thong and my labia.

“Holy shit,” I cried, an ocean in my panties. Ink didn’t break eye contact with me as he pushed one thumb deep inside. Twisting his hand around, he ground the fleshy part of his thumb against my clit while straining to plumb me as far as possible. Fuck, it was lighting me up to a burning fever. My knees strained, thrusting me onto him.

He didn’t switch positions, didn’t even move, but I’d swear I could feel his thumb extending deeper into me. It filled me tight, swirling out to press against that elusive G-spot and leaving me struggling for air. If his thumb was this good, what would his mouth be like?

The free hand that’d been twisted around my underwear suddenly yanked them down. I cried in consternation as his thumb popped out, smearing my arousal down my inner thigh. An October chill glanced through my hot cunt, erupting goosebumps all across my body.

“Do not worry,” Ink whispered. He finished tugging my panties off my ankles then caressed his hands up my legs. As he touched me, he banished the goosebumps, an unearthly heat wafting from his palms.

Eyes of whiskey on fire burned up at me. He hooked his thumbs directly into the crease of my thighs and declared, “You own me.” Diving forward, he clasped his mouth to my labia.

“Fuck!” I screamed in shock.

He moved his tongue faster than a high-end vibrator. Each rapid pulse circled around my clit without touching it directly. The strong but indirect pressure sent me reeling.

I relaxed back, but Ink moved with me. He suckered around me, his cheeks sinking even more inward from the pressure. All the while, his tongue kept up its impossible dance. “Oh, oh…g—” I panted, the words jumbled as all my brain could think was yes! Yes!

My hand ruffled his hair, the thick locks tumbling between my fingers. When did I reach for him? The other was digging into his shoulder, nails clawing across his skin. And I couldn’t stop because he couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t let him stop.

What are you doing?

A voice I hadn’t heard in over ten years clawed from my subconscious to chastise me. I wanted to shout back that I was getting eaten out by a hot man, but it felt weird to say that to my mother, even if she was just a delusion brought on by guilt. The fact she’d been dead for a decade didn’t help.

“Wait,” slipped through my gritted teeth. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to lick and suck on me until dawn. But some cruel sense of morality wrapped itself around my tongue and took command.

To my surprise, Ink slipped away, his naked body leaning back as he knelt. Perhaps it was the heightened near-orgasm state, but as I stared down at this supplicant man before me, he was perfect. His body looked like a thousand sculptors dedicated a hundred years to carving the ideal male form. The shoulders were strong and wide, just the right width to hang his taut but not skinny body. No, certainly not skinny. There were abs, so many abs I could probably hide a marble between them.

His waist was trim, that enviable V evident even in his crouch. But I sensed that he could ram through a wall should the need arise. And those thighs… God, I wanted to bite down onto them so hard he’d come from that alone.

The skin from his forehead to his full, throbbing cock was pristine. No moles, no scars. Funny how having a name like Ink he was without any tattoos. Shame, really.

A haze wafted before my eyes and I blinked hard. As I looked again at Ink black tats appeared as if from nowhere. They were cryptic and symmetrical. One in the near shape of a mandala rested right above his heart. A great sleeve of black filled his left arm from the shoulder down to his wrist. Most of the long tattoo was made of archaic symbols ripped from an alchemy book. In the middle, right over his biceps, was what looked like text but in a strange blocky language I’d never seen before. And the last was a heart with a dagger plunged through it.

Exactly the kind of man you don’t bring home to your dead mother. Precisely the type I wanted to fuck on my living room carpet.

And if he’s a secret serial killer?

There was that pesky moral nag again.

“Put your hands behind your back,” I said even before I had any idea what I wanted. Ink obliged, wrapping both together as he smiled at me. Did he know what I was doing?

No. I barely did.

What would even work? My bra? No, that thing cost sixty bucks on sale. The latex gloves in my pocket? Then I caught it. I’d been doing some light ‘redecorating’ for which someone who doesn’t own a hammer required two things—WD-40 and duct tape.

I grabbed the silver tape and yanked a strip free. The whipping sound sent my heart racing and I could feel Ink staring up at me. Not in concern or confusion, but pure obedience. I nearly placed the sticky tape to his wrist before I paused. He had arm hair and it would hurt coming off.

“Can I—?”

“Please,” he purred. “Your want is my dream.”

Fuck. Just hearing a man say that was a birthday wish come true. Clenching my toes, I wrapped the tape around his wrist, binding them behind his back. Three revolutions just to be sure because…because I didn’t trust him.

Bound and on his knees, all Ink could do was watch me bend over. I heard the creak of the tape, but he couldn’t break free to touch my breasts all but skimming against his chest. Good.

“I want…” My voice sputtered as I drew a finger along the heart tat on his chest. “To fuck you on your knees.”

Teeth bit down on my ear, causing me to gasp, but the pain was little more than a pinch. He whispered, “I know,” the words lingering in his wake.

God, my legs shook as I tried to straddle him. Still on my feet, I hovered my cunt a few inches above his cock. There, too, the thousand sculptors had honed their craft to a miracle. The head was thick and wide, perfectly proportioned with the long shaft sporting a raised vein for her pleasure.

I leaned closer, parting my lips as I kissed him. Ink lapped his tongue around with mine, resuming the heat that wouldn’t dim. I was about to plunge myself onto him when I paused. “Protection?” I chuckled to myself at nearly forgetting. And I wanted to be a nurse.

To my surprise, he glanced to the door and said, “It appears to be bolted.”

“Very funny,” I deadpanned while digging through my purse. Another perk to being a nurse was having to take a sexuality course and being given more condoms than I’d ever need. Cracking the seal, I sheathed him in a bright purple that worked for Halloween.

“What’s that for?” he asked, for the first time showing confusion.

Wrapping my palm around the nape of his neck, I pressed his forehead to mine and straddled above his cock. “Because I don’t know where an incubus has been.”

Guiding his cock with my hand, I plunged myself onto him. Cries of agony and bliss slipped from my lips. How he filled me to the brim! I slipped to my knees, taking him balls-deep while I struggled to find my balance. Not only literally but in taking command of fucking this sex god.

“Take me, use me, give me everything you want,” Ink said, and that was all I needed. It wasn’t a pretty fuck, no cute bobbing while pressing chests together like they do in the movies. I ground against him. I shook my hips. I strained to almost drag him out of me with each thrust, if only to relive that toe-curling first entrance over and over.

All the while, Ink nibbled along my throat. He too jerked his hips, meeting me at the dip of my wave. But it wasn’t much from his position. I played with my clit, widening my stance so he could watch as I groaned. The pressure was rising fast through me, my body remembering his sucking. My own fingering on top of the cock inside me was quickly brewing the perfect potion.

It just needed one more ingredient.

Bowing, I scraped my teeth across his pec and bit down right over his tattoo. Ink tensed, his body jerking up in reaction and setting off a cascade that rushed through me until I couldn’t breathe.

Spots danced across my eyes and I gasped, a feeling of drowning overtaking me. I pawed at the air, then my throat, the burn shifting into panic.

“Breathe, Layla,” a gentle voice ordered. “First in, then out. You are safe.”

The darkness sparkled away, and I found myself nearly hyperventilating. “What the shit was that?”

“La petite mort,” Ink said, still dutifully bound, still dutifully inside me.

“It felt like…like…?” I tried to conjure up how to describe it, but the sensation was slipping through my fingers. There was…a bone-shaking orgasm and— “Amazing,” I whispered.

Ink sat up straighter, glancing his lips over mine. He said, “Exactly as ordered.”

Grazing my fingers across his chest, lost in the bare skin marked only by ink, I tried to focus. Sweat that’d beaded across my forehead and collar dripped between my breasts, setting off a sea of goosebumps. I nibbled on my tongue in thought while clenching around the cock inside me. All the while he stared at me, watching and waiting as he grew harder.

“We’re not finished yet,” Ink insisted, using the length of his nose to raise my chin. It left me vulnerable and exposed before the bound man, the entirety of my throat at his reach. The first kiss touched right at the top, barely glancing against my sensitive skin. The next trailed lower, pressing deeper into my larynx.

My hips started to grind on their own, swirling around his cock as I waited in torture for the next kiss. Ink had to know it—his deadly lips quirked to the side as he studied me. I pulled in a breath to prepare for the kiss of finality, when the man below me bucked. He dove to my nipple, sucking with the same power he’d used on my clit. All the while, he leaned back on his ass, spearing me higher so he could now thrust.

“Fucking hell!” I screamed loud enough for ten neighbors to hear. Ink drove so deep inside I’d swear he was smashing my lungs. And whatever spell he cast on my nipples ramped me straight up orgasm mountain. My very being pleaded for sweet relief, and we’d barely begun.

No. I wanted this to last. I needed to be in so much twisted agony that he’d come from my begging for him.

All the fears evaporated, my reason for tying him up satiated. I wanted to have him on top of me. But that’d mean stopping and cutting him out…

A rip shattered our panting. One that could only be the straining tear of duct tape. Hands still wrapped in the gray tape grabbed my hips. Even with his cock inside me, Ink leapt to his feet with me in his arms. He wouldn’t stop thrusting, his palms splayed across the small of my back as I tipped backward.

Holy shit, this angle was perfect.

I reached for the floor, bending over like I was a world-class gymnast as he held me up and pounded away. My thighs clenched against his hips, pressing tighter to the bones below. But the pain didn’t matter. I couldn’t feel it anymore as my body burned brighter than it’d ever been. The heat flushed across my stomach and clear up to my bouncing breasts.

“Shit, fuck…” I struggled to think, my loose hair splattering against my sweaty forehead. How long could he last?

“We can go all night, if you want.”

What? No way. Was he some kind of sex ninja who trained with carnal masters to get that good? He got me off with just nipple play. Yes, he was.

The idea of fucking like this until the sun rose, every thrust knocking another tremble from me, was so tempting. But I doubted I could survive that. Then again, death by sex sounded like the best way to go.

I dug my heels in, pulling him to me and inflaming the whole of my clit. Not just the tiny nub on the outside, but all of it. I’d swear I could feel every nerve throbbing through my entire lower belly, pleading for sweet relief.

“I need…” I gasped, hanging on for dear life.

“What?” Ink asked me.

“I need…” Shit, my head was spinning, all the blood rushing to it as I hung upside down.

“What do you need, my bond?”

“I need you to fucking come!” I screamed, my orgasm breaking free as I begged him.

For a moment, his hypnotic thrusting paused, and a fear crawled through me. What if he couldn’t? What if I’d just said something to set him off? Fuck, why was it getting harder to think in this position? Oh right, the blood.

Hands locked to my waist and began to lift me back up to him. In an instant, the blood that’d pooled in my brain rushed straight down to my throbbing core. My legs flopped down, total jelly. They were no help, but Ink didn’t need them. He lowered both of us to the floor and leaned over me.

He drew a finger over my sweaty forehead, pulling my hair away. The duct tape’s strings that he’d ripped through tickled across my skin. But I didn’t look away from the man—my birthday present—brushing his lips over mine. It was a kiss traded in the rain below an umbrella, tender and tenuous. Exactly the last kind I’d expected from him.

“Sweet Lucifer!” Ink cried aloud, his eyes rolling back and his body above me trembling.

I steadied him by the biceps, slightly fearful his collapse would crush me, and also as an excuse to touch them. Those deadly lips quivered as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. But, as he raised his eyelids and gazed down at me, he grinned. “I hope that was to your specifications.”

“Yes!” I shouted before flinching at how loud I’d been. “I mean, it was good.”

“Good?” He snickered, looming above me. “Better than acceptable, at least.”

Okay, it was the best sex of my life by…how many miles was it to the sun? By that. Then add a few more. But I knew I couldn’t tell him that. Didn’t want him to get an even bigger ego than Mr. Smirk was carrying around.

Also…

I glanced away, my chest rising to funnel in air. The man above me cupped my left breast, his thumb tracing the nipple.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

How badly I want to keep you. To call you up on every lonely night so you can fuck me stupid.

When he curled his palm to my cheek to turn me to look at him, I smiled. “That it’s my birthday.”

“Well, then…” Ink leaned down his lips nearly pressed to mine. “Happy birthday.”

 

If you loved this story, vote for it in the Readers’ Choice awards by 20 June or buy the book.

Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She has a needy black lab named after Granny Weatherwax from Discworld. Sadly, her dog is more of a Magrat.

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