“I need you, Sir,” I whimpered. In a way, it was a relief that I’d have to call him Sir in a session. Because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t slip up and call him Marc. Then, it would all be over. “I want your cock in me.”
“Life is full of unfulfilled wants, cherie.” His voice was amused. “But this isn’t one of them. Still, patience. What’s the hurry? We have a few hours before we land.”
If he was going to keep me in painful need for six hours, I was completely certain I’d die. I whined softly into the pillow.
“Jenny.” His voice held a warning note. “I never want you to be afraid of me. But you still need to do as you are told.”
A thrill went through my body at his tone. “Yes Sir,” I replied, desire pulsing in me.
“Good girl,” he said, kissing the back of my neck as a reward. “Now, I want you to put your hands on the pillow.” He waited while I did what he wanted. “Now, no matter what I do, I want you to keep them there. Don’t move them.”
I nodded into the pillow, then bit my lip as the memory of Dylan beating me for failing to acknowledge his instructions vocally. “Yes Sir,” I said hastily.
If he noticed my sudden stiffening, he ignored it, his hands moving surely over my back, stroking and caressing me. I took a deep breath and consciously forced myself to relax. I was going to spend the next three months as Alexander’s submissive. I needed to learn to trust him. He hadn’t hurt me in Paris two years ago. So far, he’d only been considerate. He wasn’t Dylan.
“Get up on your knees for a second,” he instructed. The fabric of the nightgown bunched up in his hands, and he slithered it up, past my hips, past my waist, all the way up to my shoulders. I shivered as I felt his hands glide over me. I had memories of the way he felt, firm and commanding. But memories didn’t compare to the real thing.
This was the way he’d touched me in Paris. I wondered how I’d failed to notice the dominance then. He hadn’t gone overboard with it that day, but his touch had always been assured. Never tentative. This was a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. This was a man who was used to getting his way.
Right now, he desired me and my body was flushed with heat. All for him.
I sighed and melted into his touch. I’d missed him. I’d thought I’d never see him again. We were in the same bed. It was tempting to indulge myself, to obey him and see where he’d take me. I wanted amazing.
The silk slid past my breasts, exposing them to the cool air of the cabin. My nipples hardened in response. His hands moved over them, cupping and kneading them. I exhaled as little coils of pleasure wound through me.
“How hard do you like your nipples played with, Jenny?” His fingers tugged at a bud, the taut nub sliding between his thumb and forefinger.
My body has been trained to respond to pain. Whether I like it or not, soft caresses did nothing for me. I’d tried to stroke my nipples softly, but I’d learned that nothing other than a firm pull or the sharp bite of a clamp would cause my * to dampen.
I’d suspected it for the first time in Paris, two years ago. In the intervening years, I’d made my peace with it. Of all of the crimes Dylan had to answer for, this was the least of it. “Harder,” I muttered into the pillow. “Please…”
My cheeks were flushed with shame, but my desire for roughness didn’t seem to perturb him. It hadn’t in Paris either. Now though, I understood why. He was into BDSM; he had purchased a submissive at an auction. Kinky sex was a given.
He reached under me and tweaked both nipples harder, tugging them towards the bed. My hands were obediently placed at the pillow, but my fingers curled into fists as sensation swirled through me. My shoulders dug into the bed, while my ass remained raised, poised towards him. My waxed cunt dripped with arousal. I could feel it.
I wondered if he his steady gaze rested on my almost naked body. I wondered if he liked what he saw.
His hands stroked my calves and ran up my thighs. He gripped my ass cheeks and spread them open, and he groaned softly. “Beautiful,” he said. His thumbs caressed my puffy folds. “So wet and ready.”
I bit my lip and whimpered into the pillow again. It hurt to wait. I was impatient for the feeling of his body against mine, needy for his cock in me.
His fingers dipped into my * and spread the wetness there all over my ass, then spanked it firmly. “I can’t do too much of that,” he said, and I heard the regret in his voice. “The noise of the engines will only conceal so much.”
Heat rose from the spot where his hand had made contact and spread through my body. I pushed my hips towards him in invitation. Again, my body pleaded. Spank me again.