Chapter 26 Sydney
TWENTY-SIX
SYDNEY
My pulse races, blood pounding between my ears as I decide what to do next.
Despite the fact that I’m not used to taking orders—nor would I ever allow another man to demand anything from me the way Steele is right now—I want to be good for him.
But the crop he’s got loosely dangling from his fingers has me thinking things would be a lot more interesting if I decided not to obey.
Keeping my gaze locked onto his, I lick my lips before pressing them together firmly.
It’s a risk, especially considering that I have no idea how he’ll react.
If I were in his shoes, I’d likely use impact punishment or maybe a bit of orgasm control.
But I know of other dominants who use restrictive discipline to correct.
He very well could make me sit here until I decide to do as I was told, or even worse, deny me any type of pleasure for my impudence.
But for some reason, I have a feeling that his brain works the same exact way mine does, and I’m determined to test that theory.
He quirks a brow, giving me a moment to change my mind, but I don’t budge, keeping my mouth closed in challenge.
I expect him to show some signs of frustration—maybe a bulging neck vein or flared nostrils—which is why the slow smirk that spreads across his face before he sets the crop on the table and walks toward the armoire has me a little confused.
“You see, Sydney,” he says calmly, his back facing me as he roots around in one of the drawers.
“I’m used to princesses. Good girls. Sweet little subs who do exactly what I ask, without any pushback.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with a brat.
” He turns, my eyes immediately falling to the silicone ring gag in his hand as he heads back in my direction.
I crane my neck up to look at him when he stops in front of me, adrenaline rushing through my veins as he repeats the simple demand.
“Open.”
I should. I really, really should. As someone who’s aware of how it feels to make a request just for it to be blatantly ignored, I know better. But apparently, I don’t understand the concept of quitting while I’m ahead, choosing once again to ignore his words completely.
“Alright,” he says with a quick jerk of his chin. “You don’t want to open that slutty fucking mouth? I’ll open it for you.”
In an instant, my cheeks are squeezed between his thumb and fingers, my mouth immediately opening from the force.
He chuckles darkly as my eyes go wide, carefully fitting the ring behind my teeth and fastening the strap at the back of my head.
My jaw begins to ache immediately, stretched to its limit as he stands to his full height with the cockiest expression plastered across his face.
“You thought I’d just swat your ass and let that one go, huh?
” he asks, calling me out. “Make no mistake, baby. You’ll feel every bit of that leather against your ass tonight, but not before I fuck this sweet, warm hole.
” He drags two fingers over my lower lip, sinking them inside and pressing down on my tongue.
I fight the urge to gag, looking up at him through unshed tears as he slowly glides in and out.
“There’s my good girl,” he praises, pulling out and spreading my saliva along his shaft as he strokes himself.
He grows harder with every languid pass of his fist, my mouth watering in anticipation of whatever he’s planning to do next.
And holy fuck, he doesn’t disappoint, capturing my chin with his free hand before slowly feeding his cock through the ring.
His piercings bump along the smooth surface one by one, the cool metal sliding along my tongue and making my clit throb in response.
His gaze stays locked on mine the entire time, scanning for any type of body language that says I’m not okay with what’s happening, but he won’t find any because I’ve never been more content to be right where I am.
“Hands on my thighs, gorgeous,” he says with a softer tone, and I obey immediately because safety is non-negotiable in scenes like this. With my mouth full, I can’t tell him if I want to stop, so he’s making sure we have a non-verbal signal, just in case.
With my shaking palms planted on his quads, he nods in approval. “Tap twice to stop and keep your eyes on me. I want to watch you choke on the last cock that’ll ever touch these lips.”
His words hit me like a freight train, but before I can really register the weight behind them, he cradles the back of my head and slides in as far as he can go.
The tip of his erection triggers my gag reflex, the muscles constricting violently against him when he somehow finds another inch.
He groans, pulling back long enough for me to get it under control, just to thrust deep before setting a slow and steady tempo.
The only thing I can do is surrender to it, breathing through my nose while I stare up at him through tear-stained lashes.
“That’s it, baby,” he grits out, the barbells on the underside of his length skating over my tongue.
“Take your punishment like a good little sub. I bet you’ll think twice before you defy me again, huh?
” He lifts a brow, a devious grin tugging at his lips.
“Or maybe this is what makes you wet—being bad, so I have no choice but to force this sweet little fuckhole open. Doesn’t matter to me, though. I get what I want, either way.”
I gag again as he grazes the back of my throat, drool escaping around him and running down my chin. Between that and the tears that are streaming down my cheeks, I’m sure I look like a mess, but I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do right now, taking everything Steele Harlow has to give.
His eyes roll back as he holds himself deep for several seconds, his entire frame trembling while pleasure rolls through him.
White dances around the edges of my vision, panic bubbling to the surface as he cuts off my air supply.
The entire room begins to go blurry, but just as I’m about to tap, he shows mercy and pulls himself from my mouth.
I pitch forward abruptly, coughing and sputtering around the gag as I gasp for oxygen.
He gives me a moment to fill my lungs, crouching down and pressing his lips to the crown of my head.
“You did so fucking good, baby,” he praises against my hair. “Are you okay? Do you want to continue?”
I nod eagerly as my eyes find his, mumbling the best yes, please I can muster through the silicone ring that’s poised behind my teeth.
My jaw is deliciously sore, but I’m not in pain.
If anything, the physical effects of being face-fucked—and knowing I’ll surely feel them tomorrow—only turn me on more.
I definitely want to see what else he has up his sleeve for me tonight.
“Is the gag okay?” he asks. “Are you going to be my good girl and take it for a little bit longer?”
Nodding again, I lift my gaze to his, earning a soft smile in response. But it doesn’t last long as he slips back into the scene, towering over me once again with a look of arrogance painted across his face.
“Alright,” he says, picking up the crop and examining it intently.
My pulse quickens, the sound of leather against skin playing in my head the way I’ve heard it a million times.
Only now, it’s my body that’ll bear the marks it leaves behind.
My ass and thighs that will sting every time I sit down, reminders of my disobedience unrelenting for at least the next handful of hours.
I want it. More than I ever thought I would.
“Get on the bed,” he orders with a jerk of his chin. “Face down, ass up.”