But she had to. Because as the long minutes passed, he continued to simply enjoy himself, taking pleasure in her body. He didn’t even appear to be trying to make her climax. She felt no bated sense of expectation, a pressure to make her do something she’d said she couldn’t. Yet she passed a line where that didn’t matter anymore. She abandoned all she knew about her body and begged him with everything she could—her squirming, the tension in her thighs, the arch of her throat against his hold—to try.
Please…try.
She quivered as he tapped her carotid artery, then settled his fingers on her throat again. “Oh yeah, you’re tremendously responsive here. You’ve wanted a collar for a long time. And you don’t want some dainty piece of jewelry. You want something steel and thick that holds you close, presses on your throat and reminds you your very life is in a Master’s hand. It would have a lock that can only be opened by him. I’d make it smooth, so smooth on the edges, you’d feel the weight, but no discomfort. Somewhere on it I’d stamp a message in Sanskrit, one of the oldest languages known, because this is one of the oldest impulses. To claim, to exert dominance and demand submission.”
Please stop… He was giving sharp, painful details to her nebulous fantasies. Her body was rippling, undulating like a heaving sea, emulating the rhythm of sex, of f*cking, no shame anymore.
“That’s it, girl…” He said it in a throaty whisper. “Show me how wanton you are, how much you want it. Show me how you’d take my cock. Squeeze down on it, squeeze down hard.” When he slid his fingers back in, she shrieked at that overload of sensation. His thumb flicked her *, hard then light, then a stroke. Moving his smallest finger to tease the rim of her anus, he added to the abundance of stimulus she was experiencing. How much more could she take?
“Ben would love to f*ck your ass. He’s our legal counsel, and it’s his favorite orifice to explore on a woman. Imagine it, imagine him taking you there while I take your cunt. Tighten the muscles in your ass, imagine his thick cock is pumping into you there, punishing you for doubting me.” And then one finger, wet from her juices, slid into that tight passage, while the other two stayed in her p-ssy. She strangled on a scream.
“Don’t you come, Rachel. Not until I give you permission. But squeeze down on me. I want to feel those muscles clamp around my fingers.”
She was terrified. A pressure like a volcano’s eruption was sweeping over her. Her body didn’t belong to her anymore. It was heaving, bucking, squirming, so stimulated it couldn’t choose one distinct pattern of movement. Her neck arched under his hand, tilting her head farther over the edge of the bed, making her dizzy. When he squeezed her throat one more time, reminding her that all her senses, her body, everything, was under his command, that shattering into forty million pieces began.
“Come for me, Rachel. Come now.”
Her cunt rippled, contracted, her rectum clenching around his finger there. Her * hardened and suddenly it was upon her. This wasn’t like a volcano eruption after all. She was hit mid-body by a percussion wave that blew her senses out. Her mind exploded in that black night, her head arching back even farther over the side of the mattress, all the blood rushing to her head and her sex, leaving everything in between twitching and seizing.
Now the lava did flow, delicious heat pouring through her. It spilled onto his fingers like the gush of a man’s come, she felt it. So thick and primal, her legs jerking, heels beating against the mattress. She whipped her head back and forth, lashing herself with her hair, such that some of it caught in her mouth and she bit down on it. She was gorgeous, wanton, a sex Goddess incarnate, no thought but the pleasure she could give her Master as the climax rolled her over and over in the midst of a dark universe. A universe full of nothing but sensual cries and sweaty, slick flesh sliding against his hold, the one fixed point in that wildly spinning firmament.
It went on and on, until she was at last merely floating and twitching, making soft, wondering cries, a lone dove in a black-as-night galaxy. She might have passed out from the dizziness. If decades had passed when she surfaced from that mind-blowing experience, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. For one thing, she didn’t have the energy for surprise, for anything but raw emotion.
At length, she came back to him, brought out of the fog when he released the gag. Even with her blindfold still on, she felt embarrassed at the saliva collected around her mouth. But he replaced that self-conscious moment with a paralyzing aftershock of pleasure as he kissed her, licking it away from her lips with his clever tongue. She moaned against him, every nerve so sensitive under his contact.
One by one, he released her bonds, stroking the pulse points in her wrists, the arch of her feet and then at last he gathered her in his arms, his lap. His erection was enormous, pressing against her ass, but he seemed in no hurry about that. Instead, he slid the blindfold away, tilting her face up to him.
It was like looking into the sun after being locked in solitary for years. She couldn’t do it, was far too vulnerable, but he gave her no choice, holding her chin and throat, reminding her of a Master’s binding, that steel collar he’d described so vividly. However, in this moment, she only wanted the collar of his hand, that promise of pleasure he could deliver through the touch of his fingers.
His blue gaze was filled with pleasure and lust, but she noticed the way he examined her face and body, his touch soothing the strap marks along her cheeks. His attention was so obviously on her breath and mobility, she realized he was making sure she didn’t require any physical aftercare. It made unvoiced sobs ache in her chest. They were too painful and unwieldy, so they’d have to stay there. She’d remain still now—still and limp in his arms, wanting it all to stay like this forever.
* * * * *
He wouldn’t permit her to do anything for him. “Not this time,” he said in that sexy voice that brooked no argument from her. Not that she really had the strength. After such an earth-shattering discovery, that she was in fact more than capable of a climax that could launch her higher and further than she’d thought it possible for any woman to go, she was a boneless creature. No energy to rise off the bed or do anything other than lie quiet amid the glorious wreckage of her bed as he went back into the bathroom.
When he came back, she blinked. He was dressed again. Shirt tucked into belted slacks, socks and shoes back in place, though he hung his jacket on a chair, draping his tie over it. A mix of emotions went through her, but the uneasy portion of them died back some as he slid a hip on the bed. Arranging the pillows behind himself, he gathered her in, sliding her naked body over his thighs so she was sprawled between them, her upper body resting on his chest. She burrowed her fingers into the cloth, her nostrils taking in that dry-cleaned scent, his aftershave.
“I want…” When she closed her eyes, he stroked the tousled hair away from her cheek and jaw, giving the strands a tug as he did.
“What do you want?”
“Please…would you open the shirt?”
He flicked open the buttons with easy dexterity, then lifted her off him enough to pull the cloth out of the belt, open it fully. She melted back against the curves and planes of him. His solid pectoral under her cheek, his ridged abdomen under the small, stroking circles of her fingers. His cock was a hard presence against her stomach.