much as him, she grasped the flange of the plug and eased it slightly from his clutching rectum, then slid it back in. Once. Twice. Her pussy twitched in response, and Clint growled, the sound rumbling from his chest.
Stepping away, she lifted the cane and was preparing to use it but abruptly changed her mind. The longer she made him wait, the more on edge he’d be, and when he finally came, the orgasm would be the most powerful he’d ever had.
At least, that was her intention. Something to imprint her indelibly on his mind.
Of course, it meant denying herself, too. Of many things.
But she was sure it would be worth it. And maybe give her the means to finally make him let go completely.
If you probe his secrets, you’ll have to tell him yours.
Irritated with herself, she consciously brushed that thought away.
We’ll see.
Very deliberately, she ran the tip of her tongue along the line of his shoulders and down the length of his spine, circling the tiny indentation just above his ass. Her hands skimmed his hips, taking note of the way his muscles jerked in reaction to her touch. Slowly, she untied each of the silk bindings, rubbing his wrists and arms then his legs, soothing the muscles. Loving the slightly rough feel of the dark hair on his calves and thighs.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
He turned and stood there, immobile, allowing her to study every beautiful line of his body. God, no man should be that tempting. He was like a living sculpture, every muscle defined, bronze body glowing from the thin lather of sweat. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and fire blazed in his eyes. She knew without a doubt that he wanted her to finish his punishment and order him to fuck her until she couldn’t breathe.
Not just yet.
Carefully, she unfastened the straps holding the bullet in place and removed it from his mouth.
“I think we should eat dinner now.” She was pleased that her tone was smooth and even, despite her galloping pulse.
His eyes widened. “But—”
“I’m hungry.” She shook her head so her hair rippled down her back. “I need my strength to continue.” She held out her hand. “Come. We’ll go into the kitchen.”
He glanced automatically over his shoulder, as if reminded her of the plug.
She smiled. “That stays in. It will please me to know that while you sit across from me—naked—your ass is filled and the plug is stimulating you.”
He bowed his head. “As my Mistress wishes.”
He squirmed slightly when he lowered himself into the chair at the table. She knew the plug was lodging itself deeper and his ass was still stinging from the blows she’d applied. Especially because the tire tread paddle left a vivid criss crossing pattern just like the tread it was named for.
But he sat stoically, watching her with hungry eyes as she mixed the dressing into the salad, sliced the lasagna, and carried the plates to the table. Bending her own rules for once, she poured each of them a glass of wine.
“Just one,” she emphasized. “As a reward for your good behavior so far.”
“Then I’ll use it to toast you.” He lifted his glass. “To an excellent Mistress.”
Watching him sitting across from her, completely naked, his glass raised, arousal turning his eyes blacker than obsidian, she had to bite her lip to keep her own excitement at bay. She was already imagining the thick feel of his cock inside her, his mouth on her nipples as he plunged into her like a rutting bull.
She ate slowly, watching the movement of his jaw muscles as he chewed each bite, his throat when he swallowed. He had a very refined way of eating, cutting his food precisely and maneuvering it to his mouth. When a dab of red sauce beaded on his upper lip, she rose from the table, leaned over him, and licked it with the tip of her tongue.
He shivered at her touch and fisted his hands to keep from touching her without permission. She allowed herself to trail a fingernail down one arm before taking her seat again,
Stepping away, she lifted the cane and was preparing to use it but abruptly changed her mind. The longer she made him wait, the more on edge he’d be, and when he finally came, the orgasm would be the most powerful he’d ever had.
At least, that was her intention. Something to imprint her indelibly on his mind.
Of course, it meant denying herself, too. Of many things.
But she was sure it would be worth it. And maybe give her the means to finally make him let go completely.
If you probe his secrets, you’ll have to tell him yours.
Irritated with herself, she consciously brushed that thought away.
We’ll see.
Very deliberately, she ran the tip of her tongue along the line of his shoulders and down the length of his spine, circling the tiny indentation just above his ass. Her hands skimmed his hips, taking note of the way his muscles jerked in reaction to her touch. Slowly, she untied each of the silk bindings, rubbing his wrists and arms then his legs, soothing the muscles. Loving the slightly rough feel of the dark hair on his calves and thighs.
“Turn around,” she ordered.
He turned and stood there, immobile, allowing her to study every beautiful line of his body. God, no man should be that tempting. He was like a living sculpture, every muscle defined, bronze body glowing from the thin lather of sweat. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and fire blazed in his eyes. She knew without a doubt that he wanted her to finish his punishment and order him to fuck her until she couldn’t breathe.
Not just yet.
Carefully, she unfastened the straps holding the bullet in place and removed it from his mouth.
“I think we should eat dinner now.” She was pleased that her tone was smooth and even, despite her galloping pulse.
His eyes widened. “But—”
“I’m hungry.” She shook her head so her hair rippled down her back. “I need my strength to continue.” She held out her hand. “Come. We’ll go into the kitchen.”
He glanced automatically over his shoulder, as if reminded her of the plug.
She smiled. “That stays in. It will please me to know that while you sit across from me—naked—your ass is filled and the plug is stimulating you.”
He bowed his head. “As my Mistress wishes.”
He squirmed slightly when he lowered himself into the chair at the table. She knew the plug was lodging itself deeper and his ass was still stinging from the blows she’d applied. Especially because the tire tread paddle left a vivid criss crossing pattern just like the tread it was named for.
But he sat stoically, watching her with hungry eyes as she mixed the dressing into the salad, sliced the lasagna, and carried the plates to the table. Bending her own rules for once, she poured each of them a glass of wine.
“Just one,” she emphasized. “As a reward for your good behavior so far.”
“Then I’ll use it to toast you.” He lifted his glass. “To an excellent Mistress.”
Watching him sitting across from her, completely naked, his glass raised, arousal turning his eyes blacker than obsidian, she had to bite her lip to keep her own excitement at bay. She was already imagining the thick feel of his cock inside her, his mouth on her nipples as he plunged into her like a rutting bull.
She ate slowly, watching the movement of his jaw muscles as he chewed each bite, his throat when he swallowed. He had a very refined way of eating, cutting his food precisely and maneuvering it to his mouth. When a dab of red sauce beaded on his upper lip, she rose from the table, leaned over him, and licked it with the tip of her tongue.
He shivered at her touch and fisted his hands to keep from touching her without permission. She allowed herself to trail a fingernail down one arm before taking her seat again,
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