Mistress Mine by Samantha Cayto Page A

it?”
    “No, ma’am.”
    “Good. Now come and enjoy my body. Play with me.” With a
deep breath, she turned her head to face the ceiling and closed her eyes.
“Start with my breasts. Touch them, lick them, bite them.” She said the last
word with a growl.
    His whole body jerked with the urge to grab her and feast.
Instead, he took his time, worshipping her as she deserved. Kneeling fully
beside the bench, he leaned over to cup her breasts in both hands. They were
soft and lovely, yielding to his gentle pressure. When he rubbed his thumbs
over the hard nipples, his Mistress moaned and arched into his hold.
Encouraged, he replaced one thumb with his lips, tugging the nub into his
mouth, laving it with his tongue. He repeated the motion with the other breast
before sucking and tugging and grating the engorged flesh.
    Juliette bucked and writhed. “Yes, like that. Show me how
much you want me, how much you missed me.”
    “Mmm,” he murmured against her hot skin. Releasing her, he
stared at the wet pucker of her areola. “I did miss you. I want you so badly.
I’ll do whatever you say.”
    “Of course you will,” was her breathless reply. “Time for
you to straddle the bench. Face me and move that clever tongue of yours down
south.”
    Trey didn’t need to be told twice. He hated to abandon her
breasts, but the chance to taste her pussy again was not to be ignored. He
stood on stiffened legs, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure inside his
ass. Clever woman, his Mistress, giving him the gift of the plug. He could
understand now why straight guys craved being pegged. His equally stiff cock bobbed
in front of him, eager to play, yet still side-lined. Easing himself across the
bench, he stared at his destination.
    “Not yet,” Juliette admonished. “I mean for you to tease me
up to it.” He wanted to groan in frustration. “Place your hands on my thighs
and inch them upward. I want gentle pressure, a light touch.”
    Trey obeyed, placing his hands on her thighs just above the
stockings. Here, too, her skin was creamy soft and warm. His thumbs made lazy
circles on her flesh as he crept upward. He never took his eyes off his goal.
The folds of her labia winked at him, wet as they were with her juices. When he
inhaled deeply, he could smell her. She was ripe for the taking, her hips
undulating as his fingers moved higher and higher. When his thumbs met in the middle,
he flicked them up between her lips and caressed her clit with alternating
strokes.
    Juliette cried out and bucked her hips. “Don’t let me move!
Hold me down and use your tongue. Now, Trey, make me come.”
    His hands clamped down on her hips, pressing her firmly back
against the bench while his head dipped down to her mons. His tongue darted
between her folds and tasted the sweet salt of her arousal. Her clit was
waiting for him, swollen with her need. When he touched it, she cried out again
and strained against his hold. As commanded, he held her down tightly, keeping
her body still as he used tongue and lips to rip the orgasm from her. She
screamed and thrashed against all the restraints holding her back. Her body
shook with the orgasm, all the more intense because there was nowhere to
release it other than inside. He knew the feeling, knew how wonderful it was.
He lapped and sucked, determined to give her every last drop of pleasure,
before she commanded him to stop.
    Breath heavy, his body flushed with his own arousal, Trey
reluctantly pulled back and stared down at his Mistress. Her chest heaved and
her body glistened with sweat. God, she was beautiful. He wanted her more than
ever, but the damn rings and her own words, or lack of them, kept him in check.
So he sat and waited, praying for patience.
    “Take off the rings and replace them with a condom.” The
order came quickly, between pants. Juliette’s eyes remained closed.
    Trey hesitated, afraid he heard only what he wanted to, then
mentally kicked himself into gear. Without leaving