Chapter 28 #2
It was meant to be an order, but that natural submissiveness she kept buried made it a question anyway.
I didn’t want to give her any space, and I didn’t loosen my hold. “Talk to me.”
But she wasn’t trying to get away from me. A small smile curved her mouth as she looked up at me. “I’d rather do what you said.”
That hit me in the chest, gut, and dick. “You sure?”
“Are you sure I didn’t do something wrong?” she shot back.
“I don’t think it’s possible for you to do anything wrong.”
She rolled her eyes, but I still caught it. The flash of whatever had been weighing on her since my father’s house. She smothered it just as fast as she tacked on, “Please, Sir?”
I kissed her again, hard but fast, before taking a few retreating steps.
She inhaled a few times, her tits rising and falling with the effort.
And then she lowered herself to her hands and knees. In her pretty dress, sexy heels, and adorable bow. On her fucking knees for me.
Crawling to me.
Her movements were graceful and unbelievably sexy, her ass swaying in the air. It wasn’t until she got closer that I saw the way her arms trembled nervously. When she reached me, she stayed like that as I gripped her chin and tilted it back to see the desire on her face.
“If I reach under that skirt, am I going to feel that you’re wet?”
“It’s…” She swallowed hard. “It’s dripping down my thighs.”
“Fuck. Fucking hell fuck.” It was the stupidest thing I could do when I had other plans for how I wanted the night to go, but I couldn’t resist. Undoing my pants, I fisted my dick and held it in front of her. She opened her mouth eagerly, leaning in to take it.
I gathered every atom of willpower I didn’t know I had to rock back on my heels. To move away from her. “Ask me.”
“Please, Sir.”
“Please, Sir, what?”
“Please, Sir, can I have your cock down my throat?”
“You have a surprisingly filthy mouth, siren,” I groaned as I gave it to her. I would give her damn near anything.
Who was I kidding?
I would give her anything. Period.
Still fisting myself, I fed her inch by inch, rocking in and out to get my shaft wet before giving her more.
Her tongue twirled around the head, the metal piercing clanging against her teeth as I withdrew before surging forward.
When I hit the back of her throat, I pushed a little harder, going for tears.
She swallowed instead, the convulsion nearly enough to send me to my knees. It’d already been a dangerous game I was playing, and I was about to lose if I kept it up.
Pulling free, I lifted her to her feet. I wanted her pretty dress to stay on, but I knelt in front of her to undo the thin straps on her shoes.
Her fingers slid through my hair as I worked, and I glanced up to see her watching me through lowered lids.
Once she stepped out of the heels, I stood and towered over her, watching her carefully. “Say stop.”
Greer pressed her lips together even as she nodded.
Cupping her jaw, I tilted her face to kiss her.
I forced my tongue between those tightly clamped lips, giving her no choice but to open wider so I could taste more.
My free hand trailed up her side. The curve of her tit.
Across her chest. Up her throat. I squeezed the sides gently, enough to restrict her breaths without completely cutting them off before moving my hand back down.
A touch.
A harsh grip.
A skim.
A rough grab.
Around and around until Greer was a whimpering mess, practically vibrating in my hold.
I tore myself away, taking in her flushed cheeks, puffy lips, and dazed eyes.
I wish I had my damn camera. This would, without a single fucking doubt, be the best picture I’ve taken in my life.
Moving quickly before she started overthinking her doubts, I spun her away from me and put a palm between her shoulder blades. I pressed down, lowering her torso to the woven hammock.
As a precaution as much as enjoyment, I carefully positioned her hands behind her back before securing her wrists with the cuffs attached to the swing.
“You good?” I asked as she gave her hands a testing wiggle.
“Mmhmm.”
“I need words.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Better.” I flipped her pretty dress up to expose her ass. Just as she’d said, her thighs were shiny with her arousal. I ran my fingers up the slickness, heading for her pussy before stopping at the hem of her panties. She grumbled and rocked back, the suspended chains rattling.
I did it again, getting closer before backtracking, earning me another whispered curse.
The third time, I didn’t stop. Instead, I gripped her cute panties and pulled them taut between her slit. Her soaked and swollen lips looked obscene split like that.
Never mind.
This would be the best picture I’ve taken in my life.
I knew the pressure was tormenting her. She arched and wiggled, trying to get more.
I took it all away.
Sliding her panties down her legs, I picked them up before rounding her body so she could see me. Her pretty face was pressed against the leather straps, and her wide eyes were aimed at me. I lifted the cotton and held it to my nose, breathing deep.
Her loud gasp was still clear over my own inhale.
It wasn’t enough for me, and I held the eye contact as I ran my tongue over the soaked fabric. Her sweet taste exploded in my mouth.
“Don’t do that,” she hissed. Or tried to. Her outrage came out as little more than a breathy protest.
“Why?”
“Because… Because.”
I did it again.
“You’re twisted.”
“For you? Definitely.”
I pocketed the fabric I had no intention of giving back before stripping.
I drank in her reaction to me, loving the unmasked desire that was evident on her face.
She hid a lot behind her walls, but never that.
It was open. Genuine. There was nothing calculating or conniving about it. About her, for that matter.
She just wanted me.
Which was good since I sure as fuck wanted her.
I fisted myself, and she rocked back against nothing. Her arms wiggled in the restraints, as if they’d suddenly loosened to allow her to touch herself. I stroked a few times as I rounded her prone body, trying to decide where to start.
I thought about using the control panel on the wall to lift the swing so her toes barely touched the floor, leaving her constantly battling to find stability. I also considered lifting her knees into the hammock so they were tucked under her, leaving her open and vulnerable.
After my second slow stroll around her, I decided to leave her as she was. I wanted her to have a little range of motion so I could see how she reacted.
Moving to the stocked cabinet, I grabbed two packaged items and quietly unwrapped them. I tested the bullet vibrator and its remote before returning to Greer. I didn’t give her a warning before sliding the cool shaft into her overheated pussy.
Her sharp inhale cut off when I pressed the button to start vibrations. I kept it at a low, steady thrum, giving her a few seconds to adjust before lifting the soft leather in my other hand to tease across her skin.
She tensed instantly, moving away from the sensation even as her body tried to shift her back into the vibrations. Her panic was interrupted by sharp pants. “What was that?”
“A flogger. Want to see?”
“No,” she said. “But yes.”
I took a few steps, holding the thick handle so she could see it and the dozens of leather strips that hung from it. It wasn’t a stiff, cheap implement with jagged edges and flimsy construction. It was intricate and carefully made with supple leather that would only cause the correct kind of pain.
“Is that going to hurt?” she asked.
“Yes.” Not as much as a cane or crop, but it would.
I waited to see if she had more questions or objections, but she didn’t.
She met my gaze as best as she could through the loose weave and waited.
Trusting me.
I returned to my spot near her waiting ass. “Ready?”