Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
“Having someone listen to me masturbate wasn’t on my kink list.”
“It wasn’t,” I agree. An idea sparks to life.
It’s one of those ideas that will either be fantastic or an absolute disaster, but fuck it, I’m all in.
Better to go out in an oh, shit explosion than fizzle out as a what-if.
We’ve talked in more detail about her list, and in true Margot form, she had me make my own.
Nothing I’m about to say will surprise her, but my heart is backflipping inside my chest anyway.
I swallow hard. “But domming was on your list.”
And being dominated by you was on mine.
She straightens slightly, head tilting in interest.
“So was inflicting punishment,” I press. “Degradation was—”
“Hush.” Her voice is cool, but it sends heat blazing through me. “I wrote the list. I know what’s on it.”
Waiting, I watch her wheels turn. My cock aches, need growing more insistent by the second. I’ve never been on the receiving end of any of these kinks, but I’ve always thought they sounded like they could be fun—with the right partner.
“You want to be punished?” The question feels like formality. Her posture has already straightened, her hands smoothing the fabric of her T-shirt over her thighs.
“If you think I need to be.” There’s no hiding the eagerness in my voice. “And if I’m excellent at being punished, I wouldn’t be opposed to being praised, either.”
She steps closer, chin lifted. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Neither have I.”
“Punishment or jerked off while listening to someone masturbate?”
I can’t help scowling. “Both. You know I’m not actually a creep, right?”
The corner of her mouth lifts in a smile. “I don’t know what else to call a man who haunts me, steals my underwear, and gets off listening to me through the wall.”
Yours.
You call me yours.
Her gaze drops to the tented fabric of my sweatpants, and her eyebrow arches. When I look down, I see precum has created a small, dark stain on the material.
The forced exasperation in her sigh makes my ears prick. “You’re a menace.”
Mouth dry, I can only nod.
Margot might be holding back a smile. “You know the safe word? And how to tap out?”
“Yes.”
After a beat, she tilts her head toward the doorway. “Let’s go to my room, then.”
Fuck yes.
I don’t make it a step from the bed before she clicks her tongue. “Crawl there.”
My knees hit the hardwood. Margot exits, and I follow, enjoying the view.
I’ve solved the is-she-or-isn’t-she-wearing-shorts mystery.
She is not, but she is wearing an adorable pair of red cheeky panties.
They’d make an excellent addition to my collection.
We’re in her bedroom before I have a chance to tell her how much I like them.
She shuts the door behind us. I wait for her to turn on the lights, but she doesn’t. The shades are mostly drawn in here, and there’s only a sliver of moonlight coming in. I go to rise, intending to hit the switch.
“No.” Her hand is suddenly there, palming the top of my head. “Stay down.”
I can’t keep from grinning at her in the near dark. “You’re a little too good at this.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re about to be horrible at it?” she mutters. “Sit.”
I do, dropping my ass to my heels. There’s a shift of air and the sound of her footsteps. Finally, mercifully, a thin beam of light shines into the room. Margot’s turned on the light in the en suite bathroom. She moves to me, dropping to a crouch until we’re eye to eye.
“No talking, unless it’s your safe word, or I ask you a question.” Brushing hair off my forehead, she studies my face. “No touching me, unless you’re tapping out. Okay?”
I wait, gazing at her flawless poker face. She’s emotionless at first. As my eyes search hers, there’s a softening, the slightest hint of a smile trying to make an appearance.
I nod.
All softness vanishes. “Shirt off.”
Gladly.
Once I do that, she takes it from me. Folding the aged cotton like she’s getting paid by the hour, she ignores me.
Her silhouette blends into the shadows; I want the overhead lights on, I want to see every single second of this.
Setting my folded shirt on the foot of the bed, she turns back to me.
Air moves, and then she’s gripping my jaw, not hard, but firm.
“Tell me you’re sorry for listening to me get off. ”
I wish I could see her face and almost say so. “I’m sorry for listening to you fuck your perfect pussy—”
Air shifts as she moves, then fabric fills my mouth, muffling the rest of my sentence.
“That’s not what I said.” She repeats her instruction, then tugs the fabric, which I now realize is her panties—hell yes—from my mouth.
“I’m sorry for listening to you get off.”
She nods, then stuffs them right back in my mouth before I can add further commentary. “That’s a good boy.”
My cock twitches. My brain buzzes. My tongue would be lolling out of my mouth if not for the gag.
She pulls the oversized T-shirt up over her head, revealing inch after inch of kissable skin so slowly I know she’s drawing it out for my benefit.
I appreciate it. It’s a good thing she gagged me because I’d break the no-talking rule in favor of telling her how spectacular the view is.
The light isn’t half as bright as I’d like it to be so I can fully appreciate her, but I’ll take what I can get.
Moving across the floor, Margot’s wearing only her slouchy socks.
She pads into the bathroom, emerging with her bathrobe which she sets on the foot of the bed before returning to me.
When she stops, she’s close enough that I can see goose bumps rising on her thighs. I’m staring at the apex of her thighs. Her pussy is right there. So close.
While I’m admiring her, Margot’s plotting. Taking hold of my chin, she squeezes until my gaze lifts to her face.
“Look at you.” The note of mockery in her voice has me straightening. “Can’t even think when my pussy is in front of you.” Holy shit. Margot saying the word pussy may be my new favorite thing. I’m going to record it, set it as my ringtone.
Hooking a finger in my mouth, she tugs out her panties.
One hand still cradling my jaw, the other full of fabric, she holds my gaze.
The faintest hint of a wrinkle appears between her eyebrows.
I’m being studied, evaluated as she determines exactly what she’s going to do to me. Or maybe what I’ll let her do.
Anything.
“Say it.” Her voice is even. My brain glitches; she sets me up for success. “Admit that you can’t even think when my pussy is in front of you.”
My voice is rough with need. “I can’t even think when your pussy is in front of me.”
She steps closer, proving the words are so true. All I want to do is lean forward, nuzzle between her thighs, kiss my way back until I can thrust my tongue inside her. Lick her until she comes all over my face.
“Head back. Open your mouth.”
Anticipation radiates through me. I obey.
She leans forward, the movement so obvious I catch her intention from a mile away.
I open wider, praying she’s about to check a very desired item off my list. My prayers are answered.
Margot spits in my mouth, and somewhere, an angel gets its wings.
Her saliva is warm on my tongue. I hold it in my mouth, eyes still locked on her.
“Swallow.”
I do.
Fuck, that is hot.
“What do you say?” She’s stern and unyielding; I’m so turned on I almost miss the cue.
“Thank you.”
She nods. “You’re welcome.” Gently, she pushes the panties back into my mouth. Turning on her heel, she saunters to the nightstand and opens the drawer. Vibrator in hand, she turns back to me. If she’s feeling anything beyond abject boredom, there’s no sign.