“That’s my girl.” He tightened his hand on her throat. With that and the arm around her waist, he started to bring her down on him in a pounding, demanding stroke. He didn’t stroke her clit at first, making her wait for that stimulation as he got harder and thicker inside her, as his breath rasped against her ear.
Then he moved the hand that had been holding her panties and laid his palm over her mound, his fingertips pattering in little maddening touches over her clit. The build-up happened slow, but was intense. When she was ready to shriek with the sensations, he knew it.
“Let me hear you, Rachel.”
She expected she let everyone in the county hear it, but she didn’t know how to stop, and her Master didn’t want her to hold back, anyway. As he began to release inside her, she rocketed over the pinnacle, screaming out her pleasure, which only built as his massage of her clit became firmer, more insistent.
His groan against her ear, the animal sounds of his release, were blissful to her. They moved together on the sheets, the ceiling fan giving them a touch of cool air for their damp and heated skin when they finally slowed. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her shoulder blades. Finding his hand at her waist, under her breast, she took it and held on. When she did, her hand tightened almost of its own accord, as if it had received a message deep from her soul, yearning and afraid.
She closed her eyes, dispelling such things, but he responded to the pressure, holding her even closer. Everything in his presence reassured her, his touch and heat a guarantee that wrapped around her. It was like a coat providing shelter for the room inside her where it felt as if it would always be endless winter. When he spoke, he nudged her away from that cold place with lighter words.
“Such a bad girl. Teasing your Master.”
She smiled against the arm he had propped beneath her head. “I was just following his orders, wearing one of the things he’s approved for me to wear to bed.”
“I’ll make a note to add footy pajamas in that godawful seventies green to the list.” He paused. “No, that won’t work. You’ll still look gorgeous. Though it would disturb me on so many levels, I’d still have a hard-on if you wore that.”
She chuckled and elbowed him, but then he started stroking her hair and she subsided. He moved from her hair to her shoulder and side, his hands strong and soothing, his body a comfortable bulwark behind her. Though she thought if they hadn’t taken the edge off, she wouldn’t have been able to sleep, his hands said differently. His touch always possessed this magic, equally able to arouse or bring her peace. Before long, she was easing toward a dreamless sleep.
Right before she did, however, she remembered how the evening had started. On Friday, she was going to be part of a girl-girl fantasy. In front of all five K&A men.
Excitement and worry returned, all at once. Her sleep might not be so dreamless after all.
It took a great deal of effort to concentrate and give a hundred percent to her morning yoga classes and afternoon PT clients, but she did it, because she refused to let herself give them anything less than her best. Plus, as Jon said, it just made that knife edge of need grow sharper.
His behavior only added to that. After that first night, he kept his resolve—and his Master nature came out in full force. Curling up behind her in their bed the next night, he stroked her body however he pleased, until she was biting back moans of frustration. He’d told her to be still, but on an involuntary jerk, she pressed her hips back into the cradle of his and couldn’t stop herself from rubbing against his steel erection.
He circled her waist with one strong arm and turned them both, so he was sitting up, feet on the floor, and she was over his knees.
“You know better,” he admonished, and the hair brush she’d left sitting on the nightstand landed with a solid whack against her buttocks. It was his favorite way of spanking her, except for his hand.
She bit back a yelp, strangled on moans as he gave her an even more vigorous than usual punishment with the brush, caressing her cunt in between strokes. During the last few hits, he slid his fingers into her, so she was squeezing down on him. When he removed his hand, she was so in need of release tears were in her eyes. He kissed them away, laid her on the bed, kissed her mouth gently, soothed her down with those magic hands and told her how she was an amazing submissive, and how lucky a Master he was. How proud he was of her.
He knew the emotional always held more sway over her than the physical, even when she was at the very edge of that pinnacle. She curled in his arms, stopped shuddering at length, and was content, knowing she’d pleased him by not climaxing. Building the response he wanted to unleash on Friday.
She did find herself thinking about what he’d meant, though, about this being a delayed first anniversary gift. Why had he waited?
She would find out. No reason to think about it too much. To think too much about anything. Not that her telling herself that ever did much good when a concern decided to take root and spread out thorns.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d gotten much better at taking a mental spade to those thoughts and digging them out. Even if she never seemed to get all the roots, she was successful more often than not these days, trimming them down so they couldn’t infiltrate every aspect of her life.
The next day, she felt the lingering burn of that punishment on her ass whenever she had to sit during physical therapy. Thank Goddess, it was Friday, but the minutes ticked by so slowly. Work helped, her clients keeping her busy and distracted, and Sally gave her a wonderful massage at lunch time that helped her muscles relax, even if her mind didn’t. Once she arrived at home, it felt like the clock was going backwards. She followed his direction, however, doing a little gardening, reading until she fell asleep, and then eating a light dinner before soaking in the grotto.
The closer it came to the time she would head for the K&A tower, the more stimulated she felt by the lightest brush of anything against her skin. She had no concentration. He’d left her three envelopes of instructions and a go-bag on the bed. Each one had a note on it as to when she was supposed to open it. The first envelope was the only one she was allowed to open at home.
Wear whatever is easy to take off, gorgeous sub. You won’t be wearing it long.
The paper seemed to hold a hint of his scent as she brought it to her nose. She imagined him writing it, the fall of dark hair over his brow as he concentrated. She was always tempted to stroke her fingers through those soft strands during such a moment. A thought which brought back to mind his departure this morning, when he’d given her a melting heat level kiss, full of promise. His hands had roamed over her as he’d pressed her up against the wall by the door, his tongue teasing hers, teeth catching her bottom lip.