Brat and Master by Sindra van Yssel Page A

whether she was speaking loud enough or clearly enough. And she needed to do something to hold off her impending orgasm, and talking was one way. “Can I come, Sir? Or…” Or do you want to come first? As hot as the idea was that his pleasure came first, she didn’t complete the thought because the idea of trying to hold off was almost unbearable.
    “Just a moment longer,” he whispered. She groaned, not sure whether to be happy that he would let her come or upset at the agony of holding off. His fingers slowed. His thrusts became more deliberate, deeper. She could feel his hot breath against her neck and smell the pleasant musk of his sweat.
    She had to talk, to focus on the words and distract herself from the delicious sensations of his cock in her pussy. “Use me, use me, use me,” she babbled on, despite trying to be more imaginative. He growled, and she bit her lip, hard, to stop from talking. He didn’t like it either, it seemed. Then suddenly he sped up, thrusting hard into her, his stomach slamming into her ass with each stroke, and she knew his growl had little to do with her speech.
    “Now, ’Manda,” he grunted.
    “Yesss!” She screamed as everything let go all at once. She could feel him pulsing inside her even as her pussy contracted. Her muscles flexed against her bonds, but the rope didn’t yield. All she could do was throw her back into him, stretching her arms around the cross. But his body wasn’t any more yielding than the rope. He pounded into her ferociously, grunting as he emptied his balls. She wanted to squeeze every last drop, but her body no longer felt like her own. She was swimming in a bright haze, feeling her pussy squeeze around him but having no control. At least at last she was at a loss for words. There didn’t seem to be anything she could add. Wow. Oh my God. That felt so good. None of it seemed adequate.
    He nibbled on her neck and held her. The cross and the bondage all seemed in the way now, but she was grateful for his warmth. His chest hairs were remarkably soft and felt wonderful on her skin.
    She felt him hold the condom at its base and slowly pull out of her. He was still half-hard, and she couldn’t resist a small pout when he left her empty. Even at less than his full length, his presence was still satisfying. But she appreciated that he was doing the safe thing, as well.
    “Please don’t leave me.”
    She hadn’t meant to say it. He was back against her in a flash. “Why would I leave you?” he asked.
    “I don’t know, but please don’t.” The words started spilling out of her, and they didn’t express the amazement she’d felt a moment before. “This is why I don’t fuck in the club. It leaves me feeling so vulnerable. Please don’t leave.” Saying it only made her feel worse, more in need.
    “I am here,” he said softly but with a steely firmness in his voice, “as long as you need me.”
    “Thank you.” She slumped against the cross as much as the rope allowed, and he leaned against her, giving her his warmth.
    He wrapped his arms around her and the cross. He twisted the cords that wrapped between her wrists, until the bonds were loosened enough that he could slip the loops off and drop them to the floor. Then he slid his hands between her and the cross, holding her tight, flesh to flesh. He felt so warm. And she felt cold. She shivered.
    “I need to let you go so I can get the rest of your bonds.”
    “Don’t,” she said.
    “I have to get you to a warmer place, Amanda.” He let go. She knew he was right. She didn’t know why she was dropping so fast, so suddenly, but she was. She could only guess it was because he’d felt so very intense.
    To her surprise, he didn’t untie the knots around her. Instead she felt the cold of a pair of EMT shears on her skin, and heard the snip snip of them cutting the rope. Always before, no matter how much she needed to get down, doms had taken time to untie the knots and save the rope. But despite