Epilogue #2
He smoothed his hand over my ass cheeks, stroking lightly, letting me know the punishment was over.
I exhaled. My rim was on fire, but inside, I was full of fresh slick.
Davidson stood and walked to the bar. The clanking of a glass on the counter let me know he was refilling his tumbler. A few seconds later, the sofa creaked behind me.
“Spread your ass for me. I want to see my wet fuckhole.”
Grabbing my ass cheeks with both hands, I opened my crease and focused on loosening my muscles. When I felt my rim gape a little, I held still.
Drinking his whiskey, Davidson let me kneel there with my ass open for what felt like an eternity. I didn’t mind. It was just humiliating enough to keep my blood humming with arousal. After a while, I felt a little drop of slick trickle out of me. My Master gave an evil chuckle.
“You’re leaking. My fuckhole wants dick, hm?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Well, you’re not getting it yet. Straddle my lap with your back to me.”
I hurried to comply, and he pushed with his palm in the middle of my back until I was bent in half, my ass in his lap, and my head and arms hanging down his legs. I jerked when something cold touched my lower back. He’d rested the tumbler there.
“Don’t move, or it’ll spill. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
I gritted my teeth when his fingertips brushed my exposed, prickling hole. Every nerve ending back there was alive and buzzing.
“How come you’re wet?”
“I’m aroused from sucking your cock and from you hitting my hole. I deserved the punishment, and I’m grateful for it. Thank you, my Master.”
“You’re married. A nice and obedient omega mate. And yet you’re wanton like a cheap whore. Why is that?”
“I think about your cum and about fucking all the time. I can’t help it. I’m a slut for my Master’s cock.”
“And where do you need that cock?”
“In my hole, Master. I need it deep in my hole.”
The glass on my back disappeared for a few seconds. Davidson gulped, sighed, and put it back.
Tracing the strings of my jockstrap, he hummed. “This is very pretty. Would be a shame to get it dirty. I better make sure you don’t come in it.”
He shoved two fingers into me in an abrupt move that had me almost throwing the glass off. Grunting, I locked my muscles.
“Careful,” he warned. He drove his fingers in and out, and I moaned.
The bulky hardness created the perfect friction, and when he rubbed over my gland, I almost came already.
He must have felt me getting close because he stilled his movements and pushed on my gland like he was pressing a button. I wailed.
“So loud. I thought you wanted something in that hole. You don’t like it?”
The pressure was just a tad harder than what would have been pleasant. I fought not to move, which was getting increasingly difficult with the shivers running up and down my spine.
“I do. Thank you, Master,” I managed, panting.
Davidson resumed the finger-fucking, and I exhaled. He must have taken a gulp of the drink because the weight of the tumbler was gone. His fingers withdrew. What would happen now?
Fiery liquid ran over my sensitized rim, and I squeaked with surprise.
My inhumanly strong mate lifted my ass high in the air by a firm grip on my waist and slurped up everything.
He licked my crease, and the burn of alcohol abated, giving way to the sweet sensation of his tongue gliding in and out of my hole.
“I can’t get drunk on the whiskey, but your slick… Mmm.”
I hovered precariously, my feet sliding over the sofa cushions, but Davidson wouldn’t let me fall. He lowered me slowly and arranged me so I was on my hands and knees. He pushed my face down into the corner of the sofa. I could breathe, but barely.
“You didn’t topple my drink. I think you deserve a reward. What’s the best way to reward an ass like this?”
“You decide, Master.”
So he spanked me. He used the ideal rhythm and force, and I luxuriated in the stinging heat spreading over my ass and thighs.
My slick was running down my crease. Davidson lapped it up and spanked me some more.
Alternating between rimming and spanking, he brought me to the brink of orgasm yet again. Then he stopped.
An involuntary whine escaped me, but Davidson only chuckled.
“Oh, I love you, my darling nympho. Do you want my cock?”
“Yes, Master. Always.”
“What are you willing to do to get it?”
“Whatever you want, Master. I’m yours, all of me, anytime.”
He could tell me anything, and I’d do it to the best of my ability, no questions asked.
Davidson seemed to think about it as he stroked my back lightly and hooked his finger in a ring on my collar.
There were three of these silver rings, convenient additions to the jewel for this very purpose.
He tugged me up and led me by the collar upstairs to our bedroom. He paused by the door to the ensuite.
“I’m covered with grime from the office. I want my omega to wash me.”
I loved Davidson so much; sometimes I got overwhelmed by the emotion.
Like now. My eyes stung a little, and I had to swallow around a lump in my throat.
I wouldn’t cry—I was just happy. I loved washing him, and he knew.
I might be the one following orders, getting my face slapped and ass spanked, but everything he did was calculated to bring me as much pleasure as I could take.
“Yes, Master. Thank you so much, Master.”
Slowly and carefully, I removed his jacket and draped it over a chair.
His tie was next. As I opened his shirt, one button after another, I leaned closer, inhaling his intensifying scent.
I knelt to remove his shoes and socks, then I undid his belt and pushed down his pants.
I couldn’t help but nuzzle his cock through the cotton briefs he wore. He petted my head.
“Soon, my little fuckhole. But not yet. Today, we’re taking our time, remember?”
The wait was heavenly torture. I squirmed, clenching my leaking hole, as I removed his briefs, and his cock sprung free. Thick and hard and huge. My mouth filled with saliva. But I wouldn’t touch it without permission.
When he was naked, I slid the jockstrap down my legs as well and gave it to him. Davidson sniffed at it before placing it on the nightstand. Then I lifted my chin, closing my eyes.
This was something only he could do. I would never open the buckle by myself without a direct order from my Master.
His fingers brushed my skin when he slid the leather through the metal opening, slowly removing the collar. His hand curled around my throat and squeezed. It was lust that made me quiver, never fear. There wasn’t a way Davidson could touch me that would unsettle me.
He set the open collar on the nightstand next to the jockstrap and gently shoved me toward the bathroom.
In the shower, I doused his body from all angles. Meticulously, I lathered him with unscented shower gel, covering one inch at a time, contouring every line and muscle.
“Please, Master, can I wash your cock?”
Wordlessly, Davidson spread his legs.
With a groan of excitement, I massaged his length and balls, dipping my fingers into his crease and spreading suds over his ass cheeks.
I had no reason to linger as long as I did, but he let me, watching with a benevolent smile.
Tracing the firm ridges and his half-swollen knot, I could almost feel him inside me already.
The phantom sensation left me hollow and achy, but I savored the state of acute need.
I took the showerhead from the hook and rinsed him thoroughly.
“Wash yourself,” he said, leaning on the tiles and folding his arms across his chest.
Despite being mostly clean from earlier, I made a show of lathering myself head to toe. I turned my ass toward him when I cleaned up back there, using my fingers to open myself up and letting some of the water trickle in and out. Davidson looked impassive, but his erection was pointing right at me.
“Enough,” he barked and took the showerhead from me.
I stilled, waiting.
“I’m all wet,” he said.
Instead of handing him a towel, I dabbed at his skin with it, gathering every drop.
Again, I ended up on my knees. Bracing his hand on the wall, he offered me his left foot, so I toweled it off and kissed the top.
Then the other foot. Only after Davidson stepped out of the bathroom did I dry myself.
“Where are you? Come here.”
I hurried to his side. Clasping my neck, he pushed me to a kneeling position by the bed.
Then he wrapped the collar back around my neck, fixing it in place.
At this point, I was vibrating with arousal. I’d been ready to come for the past hour, and everything we’d done had only wound me up tighter. Knowing I’d feel him soon, I struggled to breathe without moaning.
Davidson pulled a small chest from under the bed, and my heartbeat doubled. Fuck, yes! It had been so long.
He wrapped thick cuffs around my wrists and tightened them.
Leather straps with carabiners dangled from the cuffs, each about two feet long.
Davidson grabbed them and pulled me into a standing position.
Then he clipped the carabiners into the discreet hooks screwed into the ceiling beam above the foot of our bed.
I hung in front of the bed like a fly caught in a spider’s net, arms spread and toes barely nudging the floor.
Any second now.
I heard him behind me, breathing heavily, as he assessed his handiwork.
“Are you comfortable?”
I knew better than to lie.
“I can’t reach the floor, Master. My arms ache, and breathing is getting difficult.”
“Then I’d better hold you up, hm?”
He stroked down the back of my legs, circling my muscles. I gasped when he lifted me, his big hands holding me under my thighs. Suspended from the ceiling, I dangled surely five feet above the floor when his lips brushed my opening.
“My tasty treat,” he murmured and licked into me.