Chapter Two
Gage took her as deep as he could and still gagged when the head hit the back of his throat. She held there. Her hand cupped the back of his skull. He breathed through his nose and forced his throat open around her. Spit ran the corners of his mouth and down onto the altar leather.
“There,” she said. “Stay exactly like that.”
She pulled almost free and let him work the head with his lips and tongue.
He was clumsy at first, then better when she told him to slow down and seal.
Salt filled his mouth. His jaw ached early and he ignored it.
When she pushed deep again he took it with a wet choked sound that made her hips twitch once, interest, not heat in her voice.
His fingers had fisted in the straps restraining him. She fucked his throat in short strokes and then long ones, teaching him the difference by feel.
Tears ran into his hair. His cock leaked a string onto his stomach.
She fucked his face in a steady rhythm. Each thrust filled him until his eyes watered and his cock jerked untouched against his stomach.
When she pulled back he chased her with his tongue without thinking.
She let him have the head to suck while she watched, thumb at the corner of his stretched mouth.
“Hungry already,” she said, not quite a question.
“Yes,” he tried to say around her, but it came out an unintelligible mumble.
She gave him more for that.
His wrists pulled at the cuffs and found no give. When spit soaked his chin she wiped it with two fingers and fed it back onto his tongue.
When she finally left his mouth it was with a soft pop of spit. She wiped his lips with her thumb.
“You take cock like you mean it.”
“I did mean it.”
“I’m glad you’re serious.” She freed his wrists from the altar rings and unbuckled the thigh straps. “Off the altar. Hands and knees on the bed.”
He scrambled free. The collar ring chimed once against the buckle.
The bed dipped under his weight. She oiled her fingers from a bottle on the side table and pressed two into him without ceremony.
He groaned into the blanket. She worked him open, scissoring, finding the spot that made his thighs shake, then adding a third finger until he pushed back onto her hand like his body had decided before his mouth did.
“Ask me for it properly.”
“Please. Please put it in me.”
“Louder. I want to hear you ask.”
“Please put your cock in me. Please.”
She lined up and took him in one slow continuous press. The stretch burned bright and clean. Gage’s mouth fell open on a sound he did not recognize as his. She bottomed out and stayed, hips flush, hand on the small of his back.
“Breathe through it. You’re fine.”
He breathed. The burn eased into full. She started to move.
First strokes were deep and measured. She found a pace that made him rock and take and make noise into the mattress. When he got too muffled she pulled his hair and turned his face to the side so she could hear him better.
“I want to hear that. Don’t bury it in the mattress.”
“Fuck. Oh fuck—that angle—”
She shifted him onto his back without pulling all the way out, legs over her shoulders, and drove deeper on the new angle.
Pleasure punched up his spine. His cock slapped his stomach wet with every thrust. She wrapped a hand around him and stroked in time, then stopped and squeezed the base hard when he started to climb.
“Not yet. You wait until I say.”
He whimpered. “Please—I’m close—”
“No. Hold it for me.”
She edged him twice more like that, fucking him through the denial until his eyes went wet and his hands clawed the sheets.
Between waves she gave him light impact: open palm on his thigh hard enough to sting, then the short flogger from the rack across his chest in measured strokes that warmed without breaking him, a slap to his cock that made him cry out and stay hard.
“This color looks good on you,” she said, meaning the pink rising on his chest, and flogged him three more careful times before tossing the toy aside.
“Climb on me. I want you to ride.”
She pulled free and sat back against the pillows. He climbed into her lap facing her. She held her cock steady while he sank down. Gravity did half the work. When he seated fully she gripped his hips and made him move.
Up.
Down.
The collar ring under her fingers when she held his throat gentle and firm. Her other hand on his cock, stroking him in short tight pulls that kept him on the edge without letting him over.
“Look at me while you take it.”
He looked. Her brown hair had come loose at the temples. Sweat shone on her collarbones. Her eyes held him open without softening.
“You come when I say. Not before.”
She fucked up into him hard.
The hand on his cock tightened.
“You can come now.”
Gage came with a broken shout, stripes of cum hitting her stomach and chest. His hole clenched around her in helpless pulses.
She drove deep and came inside him, heat flooding him in thick spurts while she held his hips down flush to her lap.
Only then did her breath catch, one brief crack of interest, before her face went smooth again.
They stayed locked. Breathing. Her forehead against his for a second, then gone as she eased him off and laid him on his side.
She left the collar on. His body hummed. Outside, gravel shifted under boots.
She hooked his top leg high over her arm and entered him again from a shallow angle that made him gasp. The new stretch woke nerves the first positions had only half found. She stroked into him slow and deep while her free hand traced the collar ring.
“Still with me?”
“Yes, mistress. Still here.”
“Say what you want.”
“I want you to use me until I can’t think.”
“A reasonable request.”
She fucked him that way until sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. When he reached for his cock she caught his wrist and pinned it to the sheet.
He nodded.
She rewarded him with three firm strokes and then nothing, hips still rolling. The denial pulled a broken noise from his throat. Her eyes sharpened for half a second.
“That sound,” she said. “I like it. I want to hear it again.”
She put him on his back again and folded him nearly in half, knees toward his shoulders, and drove into him until the bed frame knocked the wall.
Light impact returned: palm, thigh, a careful slap to his cock that left him jerking and dripping.
She edged him until tears stood without falling, then held still buried to the root as he made that broken noise from his throat once again.
“Beg me for it. Properly.”
“Please let me come. Please, Tessa—I need it—”
She stroked him in tight twists timed to deep thrusts and let him go over the edge while she watched his face. His second climax of the session wrecked him quieter than the first, body locking, hole fluttering around her. She followed with a rough breath and filled him again, hips stuttering.
She rolled him to his stomach and pushed back into him slow, using the slick of her own cum. He groaned, oversensitive, and still pushed back. She fucked him lazier this time, one hand under him stroking his soft cock until it filled again against his will.
“Again,” she said near his ear, flat as before. “You’re going to give me another one.”
When he came the third time it was smaller and shakier. She followed soon after and stayed buried while he trembled.
She sat against the headboard and let him put his head on her thigh. Her cock rested soft and wet near his cheek. She carded her fingers through his hair once.
“Two friends of mine want a spit-roast,” she said. “Tonight. You’re going to take both of them while I watch and use you when I feel like it. They like noise. Especially the kinds you make.”
“Will you be there the whole time?”
“Yes. I’ll be right here.”
“Okay.” He swallowed. “Okay. I can do that.”
She tapped the collar ring once. Outside a boot scuffed gravel and faded. She went to the rack to set out cuffs and oil for later, the quiet clink of hardware making his stomach drop in the good way.