“Come, pet. Come for me,” he tells me.
I detonate as my climax rockets through me, crashing down on me in wave after heavy wave. I ride it out, my body on an overload of pleasure, and the source is all coming from Roman. Just when I’m about to calm down, he must hit another button on the control. I can’t even describe what it does. It feels as if a hundred and one fingers are manipulating my clit at once. I go over the edge again, screaming Roman’s name. His large hand rubs against my stomach, caressing me. My eyes search him out again. He’s out of focus because I think most of my body is floating somewhere in another universe, but I see him. He’s stroking his cock. Streams of pre-cum drip off of his shaft, covering his hand and then dripping down onto my skin. I moan as aftershocks of my latest orgasm shake my body. That’s when I feel the first heated splash of his cum coat my stomach as he comes with me. On me.
“Something wrong, pet?” I ask Ana as we sit at the table.
After our first little playtime, we showered together. I washed her hair and her body, making sure to get her pussy off with my fingers. I wanted to fuck her right there, but part of the fun in breaking in a new toy is taking your time and enjoying the slow ride until they wonder if you will ever give them what they really want. Ana is a bit different, though. I’m having to fight myself to hold back, and that’s never happened before. How many times has this woman surprised me? I’m losing count. I’ve never had that in my life. I’ve always known how people will react. It’s what has made me successful over the years.
This woman surprises me every time I turn around.
“I could probably eat better in my own chair,” she says, a fine pink tint spreading on her face. How she can blush after the way she just came, is yet another surprise. She doesn’t hide her reactions to me. She doesn’t have a mercenary bone in her body that I can find. It’s refreshing.
She’s in my lap, and we’re sitting at the dining room table waiting while my cook heats up the spaghetti and bolognaise sauce. I put a white silk robe on her and brushed her hair and she looks even younger than she did before. If I hadn’t read her file I’d have to ask her if she was legal. She sure as hell doesn’t look twenty-seven.
“There’s no need. I’m going to feed you.”
“You’re going to feed me?” she asks, her face registering her shock.
“Complete control tonight. Remember?”
She still feels tense in my hands, but she relaxes a little more. Mayra, my maid, brings water, a plate of food, and a basket of bread.
“Thank you,” Ana says, but Mayra doesn’t acknowledge her, which makes the blush on Ana’s face darken. I may have to have a talk with my staff. I immediately dismiss the idea. I will be putting Ana up in her own apartment. The point is moot.
I wrap some of the spaghetti around my fork and bring it to her mouth. She opens, sucking the noodles inside her mouth. “That’s good,” she says.
“My chef is good. I demand the best from the people around me,” I tell her, feeding her again.
“I’m picking up on that. What happens when something is beyond your control?” she asks, her hand coming up to catch some of the sauce which has been caught on her lip.
“That rarely happens. I told you I like—”
“Complete control. Yeah, I kind of got that from what happened in the bedroom and shower.”
I pull her hand to my mouth and suck off the remnants of the sauce she has there, letting my tongue glide around her finger before releasing it.
“Exactly.”
“Am I going to be calling you Daddy before the night is over?” she asks, reaching over and pulling out some of the noodles with her fingers. Her head goes back to let the noodles slink into her opened mouth. My cock pushes up against her ass. I should reprimand her for feeding herself, but since it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen and my eyes are still glued to the way she’s sucking the red meat sauce off her fingers, I don’t.
“Some have. Others, no. That is completely your choice, as long as you give me what I want,” I reply, watching her feed herself again.
This time she stops before swallowing the spaghetti down to look at me. “Then no thank you. I had one Daddy. He wasn’t that great. And please, can we not refer to your other pets? I don’t want to lose my appetite.”
“Jealous?”
“Just trying to forget the fact that I’m just one in a succession of women for you.”
I let that remark slide because she’s not wrong, even if discussing this with her feels wrong.
“Tell me about your daddy.”
“I’d rather not. That’s another subject that will make me lose my appetite.”