Sugar Dust by Raven ShadowHawk

and held firm. He shoved a hand down the front of his waistband in a deliberate provocative display. As his fingers worked, his breathing hitched, and Karen realized then that he was copying her.
    “You were hogtied while I sucked your beautiful tits and whipped your fantastic ass. You exploded afterwards,” he added, still grinning. “On the sheets. The pillow. My face. Never took you for a squirter, Kaz.”
    The memory made her squirm. More shivers rippled over her skin until she could almost feel the ropes about her wrists and ankles once more. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
    “No, it was good. I want to see you do it again. You taste amazing.”
    Still gnawing her lip, she plucked the bullet from his hands and unfastened her jeans. She let them fall, stepped free, and pulled the front of her panties forward.
    “Slow down, Kaz. I want to help.” He took it back. “Arms up, please. And stand near the wall.”
    “Dan—Sir—”
    “Now.”
    The bite in his voice acted like a cattle prod. Karen snapped to attention and, never once breaking eye contact, she lifted her hands and linked them behind her head, backing toward the hallway wall.
    “Good girl.”
    The praise brought a grin to her lips, and she tilted her hips toward him as he traced one finger over the top of her underwear. She watched him bend down, lifting her vest just high enough to tongue her belly button on the way. The hot moisture of his tongue traveled down, leaving a wet trail in its wake. She shivered, locked her knees and pressed her hips forward, to invite the touch of his strong, confident hands. Slow, teasing, he tucked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down. Karen felt the fabric catch on her backside before sliding down as far as her knees.
    “Open.” His voice cracked like a whip, making her jump, just like she might beneath the lash of physical one.
    Awareness of every extremity made her lightheaded. The tip of each finger, the end of every toe, each inch of skin buzzing, prickling, tickling beneath the intensity of his gaze.
    At once she spread her legs, wide enough to stretch the panties between her knees and hold them there.
    “Very good.” Dan crouched in front of her, bullet still clasped in one hand. His gaze traveled over her exposed pussy, so intense she could almost feel it. “Wet already? Naughty girl.”
    “It’s your fault.”
    “Is it?” He touched her thigh with the tip of his finger and traced a path that felt very much like his name. The contact made muscles low in her stomach clench.
    “You say that like you don’t enjoy it.” The finger stroked higher, stopping an agonizing inch away from the curls of dark pubic hair. “Should I stop?”
    The answer was yes, she knew that, but as his finger stroked slow circles on her inner thigh Karen could no longer remember why. “No.”
    “Pardon?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “Okay then.” The finger pushed up, sliding past her outer lips with no effort at all and sinking into Karen’s body as far as the second knuckle.
    She grunted, steadied her knees, and took several deep breaths. His calm possession of her body rubbed clean the frustration of moments ago. The anger of the night before. If only he could touch her like this all the time, lay claim to her body with a whispered word, a gesture, a glance. It invigorated her and gave her something that no other part of her life allowed: absolute freedom.
    “Karen,” Dan’s voice became business like. “I’m going to stick this bullet in your deliciously, sopping wet pussy now. I’m going to leave it there, buzzing away, working you up, teasing you, until we get to Sugar Dust. You aren’t going to touch it. Understand?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Good girl.” He removed his finger and replaced it with the bullet.
    The cold, smooth metal slipped inside with ease. Karen took a second to adjust to the intrusion then clamped her inner muscles around it. She sighed. “Thank you, Sir.”
    The smile she received in return