And then his hands closed on her bottom, and she gasped and shivered. He massaged and stroked her still-tender buttocks, where pain lingered. She shook at the feel of his fingers, the slight pain and excitement rolling together, wetting her between her legs. And she wanted more.
While one hand teased her butt, his other wakened her pussy, sliding into her juices. He ran a gentle finger through her folds and up to play with her sensitive clit. She tried to wiggle, and his hand on her butt clamped down, held her in place. “Don’t move, little one.”
His finger slid across her pussy, firmly, then teasing flicks, and she could feel her clit swelling.
“Your sweet little clit is just like my cock,” he murmured. “Soft until stroked, and now feel how it grows harder. Bigger.”
The merciless touching continued until she throbbed with the need for more. When his hand moved away, she moaned.
“I don’t want to neglect this area.” His sure fingers touched outside her opening then speared through the swollen inner labia into her slickness. She struggled for breath as the sensations spread from just her clit to her whole core. Everywhere he touched grew sensitive and burned with need.
She tightened around his fingers desperately, trying to hold him in as he slid his fingers in and out.
“More,” she rasped.
He stopped, removed his hands from her.
Her whole pussy pulsed painfully and she whimpered.
“What do you call me?” he asked patiently.
“Sir. Sir, please touch me.”
“Better.” Suddenly his mouth was there, where his fingers had been. His slick, hot tongue flicked over her clit, teased her slit with swirling motions that set her to shuddering.
She panted, so close, so close, and then he moved away again, and she groaned, her hands closing into fists.
He chuckled then drove his cock deep into her in one hard surge.
She screamed as her world splintered around her, as she spasmed around his thickness, shuddering so hard her legs weakened. His hands held her in place, gripping her hips and keeping her pinned against him.
He felt even bigger in this position than the other, and now she squirmed, trying to escape. It felt like his cock had filled her completely, was up against her cervix, and she whimpered again, discomfort and desire mingling inside her.
“Shhh, just wait, little one, just wait,” he murmured. When he bent over her, his cock shifted inside, driving another gasp from her. He set one muscular arm beside her shoulder to hold himself up, and his other hand played with her breasts. He rolled her nipples gently between his callused fingers until her breasts were tight and swollen, sending carnal messages to her groin.
Her hips wiggled slightly as her pussy shivered around his cock, adjusting to his size. He began to move, each slide in and out making her gasp and then moan as sensations started piling up like mountains on top of mountains. His hand was on her breast, his lips on her back. His cock inside her was big and thick. It sank between her sensitive folds so deep that his balls slapped against her pussy and sent tiny shocks through her.
Slow at first, he increased his speed from a sensuous slide to a hard, forceful pumping. She couldn’t move; her hands were still restrained, and she could only take his assault. The feeling of helplessness ran through her, heightening every sensation. Her legs quivered uncontrollably; her whole body shuddered as each merciless thrust sent stabs of pleasure pouring through her body. She was so close again. Her pussy tightened around him, her hands closing into fists.
And then his fingers left her breast, and suddenly he was stroking her clit. With every thrust of his cock into her body, his finger pulsed across her tender clit, over and over.
She screamed as she came harder than before, great spasms inside shaking her like a hurricane, fire streaming through her all the way to her fingertips.
He pulled back, gripping her hips and driving into her as her womb convulsed around him.
“Kitten, you could be the death of me,” he growled, and then she could feel his cock jolt as he came hard inside of her. “Thank you, little sub.” He nuzzled her neck, her shoulder, before pulling gently out of her. She whined like a puppy from the shocking emptiness.
He disappeared for a second to dispose of the condom.
Eyes closed, she didn’t see him, just felt his hands as he rolled her onto her side and released her restraints.
“Come here, little one,” he murmured, and pulled her on top of him like a limp blanket. He took her lips in a tender kiss then settled her head into the hollow of his shoulder, and she found nothing in her to resist. His chest was damp with sweat, slick under her cheek, salty on her tongue when she gave it a lick.
Through the muscles covering his chest, she could hear his heart beating in a steady rhythm, nothing like her racing pulse.
His hands stroked her back with shocking gentleness after he’d taken her so hard. Her body felt abused, quivery. Wonderful.
Inside her head, she felt the same way. What was happening to her, that a man could treat her like this and she got off on it? Got so off on it that she’d screamed and lost control completely.
She was always in control, dammit; she was an accountant.
“Being in control in bed isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, especially for a woman,” he murmured.
She stiffened a little. He really did read minds, didn’t he?
“Seems like the world expects you to have to do everything these days: care for yourselves, your families, your children, your jobs… Who takes care of you, Jessica?”
I do, she thought. Just me. But being tied up couldn’t be considered being taken care of, could it? She frowned, remembering his knowledgeable hands, the way he watched her so closely, how he seemed to know exactly how to push her limits. Was that not being taken care of?
She managed to lift her head up to look at him, only to find his dark eyes studying her. And then he tangled his hands in her hair -- just like that Dom on the dance floor had done to his sub -- and took her mouth so sweetly, so thoroughly, it was as if she’d never been kissed before.
She was a snuggly one, he thought, listening to her mind fade away and sleep take her. She was draped across him like the softest of teddy bears, her breasts cushioned against his chest, her hips a graceful mound in the low light.
Snuggly and a screamer. Her shock at discovering how far passion could take her had been delightful, and he wanted to hear her low moans, little whimpers, and heady screams again and again. He stroked her hair, soft and silky with a little curl at the ends. Her fragrance surrounded him, a light mixture of vanilla and woman; she’d tasted like peaches on his tongue. He’d never been quite so content just to lie still and savor the afterglow.
The contentment dimmed at the thought that this might be all the time he had with her. She wouldn’t be quite so complacent about what had happened here tonight once she returned to her own world.
Her world? He hadn’t discovered much about her. What did she do for a living? She wasn’t married or involved with someone; she had more integrity than that. Her essential honesty drew him like a moth to a bright light.
In fact, he’d found no one in a long time whose thoughts and emotions had been so engaging. Soothing. Most people were a jumble of raucous feelings, but her mind processed thoughts and feelings in a linear fashion, this emotion, then this one, each clean and simple.
Yet she was intriguing, a puzzle. The easy friendliness she showed to those around her was a decided contrast to her controlled, conservative manner. He wanted to know more.
She roused all too soon, sitting up from him and shaking her silky hair back. If she was on top when he took her, all that hair would rain down on his chest. The thought was tempting. But no, he needed to show some restraint.
He tucked a hand under his head, watching her. She was so graceful and round, and her breasts swayed gently, tantalizingly. He couldn’t resist and ran his knuckles along the undersides, circled her nipples with one finger, enjoying the puckering.
“I think… Is it getting close to morning?” Her voice was husky, a little rough, and he smiled, remembering how she’d panted as her climax neared. How she’d screamed.
“It’s past dawn, yes.”
“I need to… I’m sure it’s time to go.”
Ah, reality had indeed arrived.
Someone had actually washed and dried her clothing. How many people did Sir have working here?
Being back in her conservative blouse and slacks seemed to make the evening less real. The club room was quiet now with no music, no people remaining except the bartender.
He nodded at Sir and smiled at her. A nice smile, but she still flushed, knowing what she must look like. Her lips were swollen, her face beard-scratched, her hair tangled. She must look rather well used.
After a moment, she smiled back. Well satisfied.
Master Z, with one arm firmly around her, glanced around the bar. “Everyone gone?”
“Yes, sir,” Cullen replied. “I’ll be done cleaning up in about fifteen minutes.”
“How late is it?” Jessica asked.
“Not late, pet.” The bartender chuckled. “Early. It’s almost eight o’clock in the morning.”
She blinked. “I definitely need to get going.”
“Of course,” Master Z murmured.
Odd how she almost had wanted him to protest. “May I use your phone?”
