Livvy's Devil Dom

By: Raven McAllan


To Doris for pushing me to rewrite this, Evernight Publishing for accepting it, Karyn for her fantastic edits, and Sour Cherry for their great cover.

And as ever to Paul, who supported me every step of the way.


One year ago

"Come for me." His voice was soft, persuasive, like liquid silver that slid over her skin and into her mind. Livvy stirred and moaned.

"What?" She wasn't sure she'd heard right.

"Come for me. Put your fingers inside yourself, and then use your wetness to rub your clit, touch your nipples, and make yourself come. You know you want to. So do it now."

His tone was mesmeric, and it compelled her to respond.

I want to? Well, her body did. Her pussy got wetter as he spoke, and her nipples puckered under the silky top she wore. Before she realized what she was doing, she began to do as he asked. God, she was wet, achingly so. Her clit throbbed for a touch, her nipples stood proud and hard, and her body became alert and primed.

"Why?" she asked. She opened her eyes—not a dream then—and her heart missed a beat.

He looked at her, the twinkle in his eyes at odds with the seriousness of his face. She had never seen a man so beautiful, with long black hair and deep blue eyes that touched her soul. A sear of heat crossed her skin, and she ached to feel his long, elegant fingers on her body.

"Because where we're going, you'll to have to trust me totally. If you do this, I'll know you do. This is giving yourself to me utterly, letting me see you as you come, see you at your most vulnerable. And"—he paused—"it'll turn me on."

Yeah, that's more like it. She continued the steady strokes inside herself. If anyone told me I'd play with myself because someone asked me to, I'd have said they were doo-lally. And I'm doing it. She'd sort out the whys and wherefores afterwards. After what Livvy didn't think about.

"So, if I do, are you going to do the same?" she asked.

"Oh, my pleasure." He rubbed his cock as he spoke, and those clever fingers circled and moved over his skin. She couldn't keep her eyes off his actions. They mesmerized her. "I'll come for you, all over you. But be warned, each drop of cum that falls on your body, each tiny drop marks you as mine, and you know what that means, don't you?"

Do I? She thought about it. "No."

"Well, are you ready to find out? Find what is in the recesses of your soul? See what you release in me? Other than semen?"

Was she?

Oh, yeah.

Chapter One

December, one year later

Livvy woke up achy, aroused, and spitting mad. It was that bloody dream again. For the last year, she'd broken her sleep at least once a night like this. With a wet pussy, her clit thrumming and demanding attention, and making her reach for her purple friend.

The damn vibrator is overworked. Sadly that made no difference, it was that or her hand, and sometimes extra help was a necessity. In a huff, she switched the machine on and began to play. What the hell is happening? I might be as horny as hell, but at this rate I'll be able to write sex maniac in the next passport form I fill in. Livvy wanted to know why she woke night after night in this state, sweat-slicked and grasping for something. It was almost as if she had to find it, but didn't know what “it” was. That knowledge circled her mind and teased her sanity. Okay, she was usually as ready as the next person to play, but this continual state of awareness, was enough to get anyone in a tizzy. Her thongs seemed permanently damp, and her nipples were hard enough to hang a hat on.

As usual, Livvy came in mere seconds, sobbing and throbbing. This seems to be my state at the moment. Why can't I remember the dream? Livvy sniffed and bit her lip, as she wiped her tears with a now well sodden tissue.

A sharp sting made her look down at her chest and stomach. Even more freckles—well, that's what she called them—had appeared. Every time. Every time she had the dream, she'd look and see more of the dark marks.

I'll soon have a map of Australia on me in freckles, She got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower and wash Freddie, as she called her purple friend.

“Not Australia, Livvy. Saffaul, my home. I'm waiting.”

Shit, now I'm having conversations with myself. In a different voice. Livvy-girl, you need a holiday. Or sex. Proper, wide-awake, and participating sex. With a hot bod, not a hot rod!

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