Page 115 of The Satyr's Guilt
Denim stretched her armsoverhead, unashamed to show her breasts above the sheet while shewatched Ram stride back to bed naked, glorious, and totallyarrogant. His proud cock jutted out, hard and tempting.
“You are so sexy, doll. The sight of yougoes straight to my dick.”
A reflex, she pulled a strand of hair overthe scar on her cheek.
“Stop. It’s part of what makes youbeautiful.” He sank onto the bed, on his back, his arms crossedunder his neck.
Believing him, she combed fingers throughher hair, pushing it off her face. “I know how to satisfy aninsatiable satyr’s appetite.” Denim gripped his thick, proudlength. Straddling him, she stroked his velvety hardness, lovingthe feel of steel under the soft flesh.
Ram settled a pillow under his neck,pointing to his crotch. He tilted his hips up. “Don’t begentle.”
Denim bent forward to lick the crown wherepre-cum beaded on the end. His hips hammered up.
She chuckled. “You like that, satyr?”
“Yeah. I like.” His hands rested on hertemples.
She flicked her tongue in a circle aroundthe tip of his shaft.
“Oh, doll.”
Ram’s palms pressed tighter to her head ashe inched deeper.
She listened to his groans, enjoying hercontrol over his pleasure. Fisting the base of his arousal, sheglided her hand up and down while her mouth worked the rest of him.She found a rhythm, sucking, licking, and stroking.
He tasted so good, his flesh firm, his shaftpulsing in her mouth.
He jacked upward, sending himself to theback of her throat. She gently feathered his balls with herfingertips.
“Really squeeze them, doll.” She did. “Damn.I’m going to come.”
Ram grabbed her shoulders, trying to dragher up his torso.
She resisted. “Finish.” She licked her wetlips, puffy from having sucked him.
When she returned her mouth to his cock, Ramdidn’t last long.
Afterward, Denim couldn’t stop smiling. “Iloved tasting you.”
“You can suck me anytime.” Ram leanedagainst the headboard, Denim’s arms wrapped around him, her head onhis pectorals. “I hate to bring up bad tidings after such asuperior performance, but it’s time to interrogate your ex. Are yougoing to handle it okay? If not, you stay here. I’ll oversee theproceedings.”
“He’s an asshole. It won’t bother me at all,cher.” She lifted her eyes.
Ram trained his penetrating translucent gazeon her. “How bad did he hurt you?”
Feeling the satyr’s muscles clench when heasked the question, she realized something. In part because of Ram,she was healing. All men were not Steven. For the first time, shewanted to share the incident which bruised her where no one couldsee.
With a deep inhale, she began the story. “Iwas home packing to leave the jerk. He was supposed to be at workbut returned to our apartment early. Drunk. When I told him I wasdivorcing him, he slammed his fists into my face, kicked me, rapedme, and left me lying bloody on my own sheets.”
Ram snarled, his eyes flashing neon green.In anger now. Not passion.
She stroked the ridges of his abs to calmhim because she couldn’t stop now. “My Pottery Barn sheets. Theywere expensive.” Her lips tilted into a smile as she refused togive in to her emotions.
Ram was quiet, but his chest rose and fellwith each breath. “You won’t have to worry about him again. Whenwe’re done with him, I’ll castrate the asshole. For free.”
She continued to rest on the satyr, likingthe feel of his warm skin, the rhythmic beat of his heart. “He putme in the hospital. A couple broken ribs, a cracked jaw, lots ofblack and blue…” Denim fingered the visible evidence of Steven’scruelty. “…and my scar.”
He waited when she paused, somehow readingher as no one ever had. “That’s your visible scar. What’s yourinvisible one, Denim?”
