I want to stay.”
Chapter 7
Zoë wasn’t used to sleeping during the day. She woke slowly, taking a moment to get her bearings. They had eaten lunch on Dylan’s back veranda, which overlooked a beautifully tended lawn that sloped toward a small lake. Afterward, he’d suggested a nap, but instead of taking her back to her dungeon bed, he’d led her to his bedroom on the second floor.
From the moment he’d told her their financial bargain was no longer in play, something had shifted between them. What Zoë had started out regarding as a weekend kinky sex game had become something infinitely more real.
Refreshed from the afternoon nap, Zoë gently disengaged from Dylan’s warm embrace, stretched and yawned. Dylan opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her. He took her hand and guided it to his cock, which lay long and thick along his flat stomach.
“Now that you’re rested,” he said, “we’ll continue with the next exercise.” His smile was lazily sensual, his shaft twitching against her fingers.
Zoë’s cunt spasmed, her nipples perking to instant attention. Certain she knew what he wanted, and eager to give it to him, she started to scoot down to take his erection into her mouth. He stopped her by gripping a handful of her hair and using it as a rein to jerk her back. “Not so fast. You’re making assumptions. I would prefer it if you wait until I give you a specific task, understood?”
Both embarrassed and chagrined, Zoë nodded.
“What’s that?” Dylan prompted.
“Yes, Sir,” she managed, secretly thrilled at his dominance, which resonated somewhere deep inside her, filling a place she’d never realized was empty.
Dylan slid from the bed and stood beside it, completely relaxed in his nudity as he placed his hands on his hips, his cock jutting provocatively toward her. He pointed to the ground. “Get on your knees.”
He waited while she obeyed. His shaft bobbed inches from her face. She swallowed and pressed her lips together, only barely controlling her impulse to lean forward and suck that gorgeous cock into her mouth. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed. “Grip your opposite wrists with your hands.” Once she was in position, he continued, “You will worship my cock with your mouth. You won’t stop until I climax.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “I think we’ll make this more interesting with a little rope. Oh, and do you know what nipple clamps are?”
No point in denying it. “I’ve—I’ve read about them in my novels, Sir,” Zoë admitted.
“Ah yes, your erotic romance novels.” Dylan lifted an eyebrow, his smile sardonic. “You’re going to have to show me some of those later, sub girl. But right now, it’s time to experience what you’ve only read about.” He reached back and opened his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a chain with an alligator clip attached on each end. He held it out so Zoë could see. He pressed open one of the clips and indicated the small screw at its base. “You understand the principle, I assume?”
Zoë’s stared at the open clip, fixating on the double row of tiny, sharp teeth glittering like a shark’s open maw. It looked positively diabolical. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “I—I think so.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Dylan bent down and reached for Zoë’s right nipple, pulling it taut between his fingers.
“Oh!” Zoë gasped, instinctively drawing back in alarm. “Will it hurt?”
Dylan’s smile was at once sensual and cruel. “Of course it will hurt. That’s the point, dear heart.” He rolled her marble-hard nipple between thumb and forefinger. “But it’s a good pain. It’s purifying. And it’s part of this exercise—you will please me while at the same time suffering for me, which in turn pleases me all the more.”
As Zoë pondered this dichotomy, Dylan opened one of the clips and guided it toward her distended nipple. “Don’t move. I’m going to attach the clips one at a time,
Chapter 7
Zoë wasn’t used to sleeping during the day. She woke slowly, taking a moment to get her bearings. They had eaten lunch on Dylan’s back veranda, which overlooked a beautifully tended lawn that sloped toward a small lake. Afterward, he’d suggested a nap, but instead of taking her back to her dungeon bed, he’d led her to his bedroom on the second floor.
From the moment he’d told her their financial bargain was no longer in play, something had shifted between them. What Zoë had started out regarding as a weekend kinky sex game had become something infinitely more real.
Refreshed from the afternoon nap, Zoë gently disengaged from Dylan’s warm embrace, stretched and yawned. Dylan opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her. He took her hand and guided it to his cock, which lay long and thick along his flat stomach.
“Now that you’re rested,” he said, “we’ll continue with the next exercise.” His smile was lazily sensual, his shaft twitching against her fingers.
Zoë’s cunt spasmed, her nipples perking to instant attention. Certain she knew what he wanted, and eager to give it to him, she started to scoot down to take his erection into her mouth. He stopped her by gripping a handful of her hair and using it as a rein to jerk her back. “Not so fast. You’re making assumptions. I would prefer it if you wait until I give you a specific task, understood?”
Both embarrassed and chagrined, Zoë nodded.
“What’s that?” Dylan prompted.
“Yes, Sir,” she managed, secretly thrilled at his dominance, which resonated somewhere deep inside her, filling a place she’d never realized was empty.
Dylan slid from the bed and stood beside it, completely relaxed in his nudity as he placed his hands on his hips, his cock jutting provocatively toward her. He pointed to the ground. “Get on your knees.”
He waited while she obeyed. His shaft bobbed inches from her face. She swallowed and pressed her lips together, only barely controlling her impulse to lean forward and suck that gorgeous cock into her mouth. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed. “Grip your opposite wrists with your hands.” Once she was in position, he continued, “You will worship my cock with your mouth. You won’t stop until I climax.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “I think we’ll make this more interesting with a little rope. Oh, and do you know what nipple clamps are?”
No point in denying it. “I’ve—I’ve read about them in my novels, Sir,” Zoë admitted.
“Ah yes, your erotic romance novels.” Dylan lifted an eyebrow, his smile sardonic. “You’re going to have to show me some of those later, sub girl. But right now, it’s time to experience what you’ve only read about.” He reached back and opened his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a chain with an alligator clip attached on each end. He held it out so Zoë could see. He pressed open one of the clips and indicated the small screw at its base. “You understand the principle, I assume?”
Zoë’s stared at the open clip, fixating on the double row of tiny, sharp teeth glittering like a shark’s open maw. It looked positively diabolical. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “I—I think so.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Dylan bent down and reached for Zoë’s right nipple, pulling it taut between his fingers.
“Oh!” Zoë gasped, instinctively drawing back in alarm. “Will it hurt?”
Dylan’s smile was at once sensual and cruel. “Of course it will hurt. That’s the point, dear heart.” He rolled her marble-hard nipple between thumb and forefinger. “But it’s a good pain. It’s purifying. And it’s part of this exercise—you will please me while at the same time suffering for me, which in turn pleases me all the more.”
As Zoë pondered this dichotomy, Dylan opened one of the clips and guided it toward her distended nipple. “Don’t move. I’m going to attach the clips one at a time,
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