Page 28 of Wild Stars

Being the center of attention.

And like a dying moth, I can’t turn away from his fire, even though I know he’s going to burn me to fucking pieces.

But that’s my problem, isn’t it?

For all the control I favor, I am Icarus, and I crave the fucking sun.

My cock throbs as I watch the angels touch him, tease him.

Jealousy pools once again within me like a cyclone, bringing back the memories of my downfall.

I’ve always known my interests were niche.I like men, and I like men who need to be broken.Because I’m fucking broken.

I can’t compete with soft breasts and tight pussy.

And from the sight before me, it’s more than clear that Darelikesthat.

And because I truly am a glutton for punishment, and I am buzzed enough to not give a shit, I close my eyes for a moment, and I let my thoughts wander places they shouldn’t.

I imagine the angels around Dare have disappeared, and I am in their place.Tying, twisting, touching him.

Imagining the feel of his soft skin under my palms, his taut, pierced nipples sensitive from the clamps.The stiff texture as I bite and lick them, as he wriggles beneath my touch, his hardness growing against my own.

The groan that would escape his throat as I wind him up like a fucking music box with just my touch.

Listening to his moans because he can’t touch himself, bound in my ropes.

Begging me for mercy, to make him come.

Swallowing down every drop of his sweet release and then doing it all over again, edging him, until he begs me to stop, spent from the pleasure.

I swallow harshly as my cock strains against the inside of my pants at the thought of the endless pleasure.I grab myself, if only to stave off the desire, opening my eyes.

Dare’s dark gaze stares directly at me, and it is like he truly sees me.Or through me, I’m not entirely sure.Because I feel like a ghost.

Haunted by my own choices, my own vices.

My heart beats so loud I think the whole club can hear it as I get lost in the perfect performance before me.

He’s drunk, strung up on display for all of Saint & Sinner to see, and I know better than anyone how a crowd can drown everything out.

How cathartic and blissful it can be under those lights.

How being bound can be so fucking freeing that you forget about everything else.

I’ve always been dominant, by nature, but that doesn’t mean that I have no experience being a submissive.But I haven’t trusted anyone enough to play switch in a long fucking time.Not since I was probably Dare’s age.

Moisture pebbles my cockhead as I think about how pretty he’d look in my Italian leather ropes.

Naked and exposed, begging for mercy.

A hand settles on my shoulder, jolting me from my dreams, and I remember where I am and that I am not alone.Not by a long shot.

“I need to go,” I mutter as I shove off the touch of a stranger.

I turn around, but I stumble, nearly knocking over a waitress.I apologize, heading for the one place I know I can be free.

A man dressed in a leather harness and leather shorts stops me at the velvet rope.

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