22. Dane
22
DANE
M ine.
It’s like something out of one of my most feverish fantasies: Abigail is calling me Master while she cries and comes all over my face.
But this is real. Nothing has ever been more real in my life.
Until meeting her, I’d seen the world in cold, clinical terms. I assessed everything at a numb distance, and I was thoroughly in control because I wasn’t hampered by the frivolous emotions that weaken other people.
Now, I feel everything. And I’ve never been more powerful.
These savage emotions Abigail evokes in me are almost debilitating at times, but my control over her makes me stronger than I’ve ever been.
This stunning, talented woman has chosen to give herself to me. She places her full trust in me.
It’s the greatest high I’ve ever known, even though she’s the one screaming out her orgasm right now.
Her pussy gives a weak flutter around my insistent fingers, tempting my own lust to rise to a maddening pitch. My cock is painfully hard, and I’ve been aching to bury myself in her wet heat. Only my control over her has given me the strength to restrain my most primal urges. I won’t rut into her like a beast when having her completely come undone is a far greater pleasure.
I want her on her knees, so that I can see those lovely aquamarine eyes staring up at me with devotion and awe.
Her cunt fully yielded to me three orgasms ago. She’s tight, but her body surrendered to my will.
I lick my lips and taste her delicious arousal, all that wet desire just for me.
It’s her turn now.
I keep one arm braced around her lower back to support her as I rise, then lift my free hand to undo the knot that keeps her wrists bound above her head. She sags against me, her muscles weak and shaking after the long period of erotic torment.
I ease her down, guiding her to her knees. She sways slightly, like she’s drunk on the pleasure I’ve drawn from her lovely body.
I touch two fingers beneath her chin, and her perfect posture immediately straightens her shoulders. Her back arches slightly, putting her modest, pert breasts on display for me. Her pink nipples are pretty little buds, and I wonder how sensitive they are.
That exploration will have to wait for another time. I’ve barely begun to learn the secrets of her body, even if I already know her hidden, dark fantasies from our late-night messages.
Abigail is my perfect match.
And now, she’s all mine.
She walked right into her cage when she signed the contract to be my submissive. There’s no going back now.
I reach into my pocket and retrieve the collar I purchased for her weeks ago. One way or another, this was always going to end up locked around her pretty throat.
But my pet is proving to be sweetly docile. It’s almost a shame she’s not putting up more of a fight.
I blink once so that she can’t see the dark thought in my eyes. She’s staring up at me with that wide, guileless gaze, and I fear she might see straight into me if I don’t keep my new, surging emotions in check.
I want Abigail to feel safe with me. The fact that she’s willingly placing her trust in me makes something throb deep in the center of my chest. It’s almost a painful sensation, but I decide that I like it. I want more of this.
“Lift your hair for me,” I command.
I don’t wait or ask for her permission to collar her. She’s already agreed to this with her signature on the contract. Only a single word can stop what’s happening between us, and I won’t do anything that might push her to use it.
The black collar is a thin, midnight band of leather against her creamy skin. The rose gold ring at the front brings out the soft pink hues in her complexion. The matching buckle at her nape has a small ring that punches through the leather, and I deftly loop the delicate padlock through it. The soft click of the lock engaging draws the most delicious shiver from her, and her hair cascades from her fingers in sable waves.
I find the purple one and curve it around my finger. The gesture is calming in a way I’ve never known before. I smooth the vibrant locks into one perfect, loose curl that falls over her left breast, brushing her tight nipple. The rich amethyst shade against the pink bud is the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen.
Her rosebud lips are a deeper shade of pink, slightly glossy from her tears. I trace my thumb along them, memorizing their shape and pliant texture.
So many long nights, I’ve laid alone in bed and fantasized about these lips around my cock.
The time for fantasies is over.
Abigail is my collared pet now, and she will eagerly give me access to every part of her body.
“Open your mouth.”
As I free my stiff cock from the confines of my trousers, those lovely lips part. Her hands brace at my hips, and her head dips forward to accept my length into her mouth.
My fingers anchor in her hair, stopping her short with a little warning tug. I tap my cock against her cheek in a light slap—a swift rebuke for trying to take control.
“What did I?—?”
I slap her again, more firmly this time. “Open your mouth.” I repeat the command, clipped and clear.
Her eyes shine with fresh tears, and they’re so blue that they practically glow like a sunlit, azure sea. Her lower lip trembles when she parts her lips again, then waits for my next move. She barely breathes as she stares up at me, completely vulnerable and willing to be used for my pleasure.
“Stick out your tongue.”
She complies, and I rest my cockhead on her waiting tongue. Desire courses through my veins, hot and insistent. But I’m strong enough to master my own lust; mastering her gives me that strength.
I watch in rapt fascination as a bead of my precum drops onto her tongue. It pools there, spilling deeper into her waiting mouth. A tear rolls down her rosy cheek. I capture it on my fingertips and rub the wetness over my cock. Pleasure lances me like a lightning strike down my spine, and I grit my teeth to hold back my orgasm.
I take a small step forward, wedging my shin between her thighs. She gasps, and the soft rush of air over my dick torments me. I bite back a growl and increase the pressure, so that her sensitive little clit is griding against my leg.
“Don’t stop,” I say. “You’re going to come for me again.”
A high whimper eases from her chest, but she obediently rotates her hips, stimulating herself even though I know she must be aroused to the point of pain.
“Good girl. You’re such a good pet.”
I finally, slowly, push my cock into her waiting mouth.
“Does that feel good, Abigail? Does it hurt?”
Broken moans hum around my dick, and I bury my fingers in her hair, clinging for my control.
A dark laugh fills the bedroom. “That’s right,” I praise. “Pets don’t talk. All you can do is whimper and moan around Master’s cock.”
Her eyes roll back on a blissful whine, and I tug sharply at her hair to recapture her attention.
“Look at me.”
Her lovely eyes are dark with lust, her huge pupils rendering the remarkable aqua shade a thin ring of blue. Her gaze is unnervingly focused despite her euphoric state, and again, I get the sense that she’s peering straight into me.
And in this moment, I can’t hold anything back. I let my civilized mask drop away entirely; I allow her to see my selfishness, my ruthlessness, my cruel hunger that only she can slake.
She moans around my cock, and I can’t restrain myself in any way. My length sinks deep into her throat, and she gags around me. I can’t stop. I pull back slightly to allow her to breathe, but I come all over her tongue.
The rush of pleasure is strong enough to make my knees weak, and I grab the bedpost for support as I roar out my release.
I watch in awe as she greedily swallows everything that I offer her. She’s frantically licking my shaft when she grinds hard against my leg and lets out a sharp cry, finding her own ecstasy in my pleasure with her.
I withdraw from her and scoop her up in my arms. She’s completely limp in my hold, implicitly trusting me to take care of her in the aftermath of absolutely shattering her.
The painful pulsing at the center of my chest starts up again, an insistent, addictive throb.
I lay my pretty pet out on my bed and tuck her body close to mine. I’m still mostly dressed while she’s fully naked, but I just need to hold her now. I can worry about mundane things like clothing later.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, stroking her hair back from her sweat-slicked brow.
She’s so still and quiet.
I barely breathe until she slurs, “Wonderful.”
My entire body relaxes, and I marvel at this moment of unknown intimacy. Only a few hours ago, I’d feared that she wouldn’t sign the NDA. Now, Abigail is naked in my bed, and she looks as peaceful as one of the sleeping princesses in her favorite animated musicals.
The last week without her has been deeply unpleasant. I was forcing her to live without me and to reflect on how she’d disappointed me by faking the orgasm.
But I’d tortured myself too.
Never again.
From now on, Abigail will sleep in my bed every night. I won’t tolerate another arrangement.
I’m her Master, and she will learn what it means to be mine.