Chapter 30 #2
He takes my hair in one hand and wraps it around his wrist, holding me tight. He pulls my mouth onto his cock. He’s huge. Overwhelming. In a good way.
Okay?” he whispers.
I nod, afraid he’s going to decide I can’t handle it, and almost choke myself on his girth.
Recovering, I start to tease with my tongue and let him dip deep.
His eyes roll back. One hand is soft on my cheek and the other still holds me prisoner by the hair.
I pull back for breath then tease at his tip, licking up some salty precum.
He shudders all over. He has to lean against the wall now, mighty legs weak for me.
I bob my head up and down, his girth filling my mouth and making my cock throb.
“It’s too difficult without your hands,” he says. He reaches down to help me pleasure him.
I pop my lips off his cock. “I can do it. I want to work hard for my boss.”
All my years of practice feel like they’ve been building up to this moment.
But it feels different, doing this with someone I care about.
Someone I love. I work even harder, barely pausing to breathe.
It’s a secondary concern when my boss’s pleasure is at stake.
I’m light-headed, painfully turned on. Hard floor under my knees, restraints at my wrists and a huge, rock-hard cock in my mouth.
It’s everything I ever wanted. Grimes starts to pulsate in my mouth.
He’s making inchoate groaning noises and I know he’s close.
I knew I could do it. I ready myself. His load is huge, like him.
I swallow with a mix of triumph and disbelief.
His taste fills my mouth and every sense is full of him.
I close my eyes to prolong the moment and struggle to regain my breath.
“Okay, flower?” he says.
I open my eyes. He’s looking down at me, pupils blown wide, a look of pure bliss on his face. My stoical, immoveable boss. Maybe not so immoveable anymore. He looks like the earth just moved for him. A mammoth feeling of achievement brings a huge grin to my face.
“Of course I’m okay.” I run my tongue around my tender lips. “Told you I could do it myself.”
“You did. Not too much for you?”
“Never, Boss.”
I’m still kneeling in front of him and a large part of me doesn’t ever want to get up. I’m torn, because there’s something I’d really like to do to him.
“Is the servant allowed to make a suggestion?” I ask, super meek.
He puts his head on one side, considering. “Maybe. What is it?”
“Can I top you?”
He smiles like a wolf. “As long as I keep you tied up and in that little apron.”
My cock throbs its interest as I picture it.
“See, great ideas like that are the reason you’re the boss and I’m just the servant,” I say.
He chuckles. Holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet, pulls me close, kisses my forehead. He stares at me for a full thirty seconds. Sweat beads in the thick dark hair on his chest, on his forehead which I can see properly now without the hood.
“What?” I say, though his gaze doesn’t make me self-conscious. Just seen.
“You have very pretty eyes,” he says.
“So do you.” I shoot it back breezily. He looks surprised. But it’s true. I love those flecks of russet and chestnut among the mahogany brown. I love the mix of warmth and heat in his eyes when he looks at me.
“What? Am I the first person who ever dared to call you pretty?” I tease.
“To be honest, yes,” he says.
He hoists me into his arms, my hands still tied.
“Boss?” I say softly, cradled against his chest.
“Yes, flower?”
“I’m yours now, aren’t I?”
“You are,” he answers at once.
“And are you going to keep me forever?”
His breath catches in his chest. “If you want me to,” he whispers, and though physically he has all the power here, his voice is tiny with hope.
“I do.”
He carries me upstairs, strong and casual enough to even steal a kiss as he strides up the staircase with me in his arms. He sets me down in his bedroom and then rummages inside the nightstand to find a bottle of oil.
Excitement flickers through my body and my cock gets even harder.
He unties my hands, but only for a moment.
He directs me to lie on my back. He gets busy tying my hands to the headboard and fresh arousal rushes through me as his strong fingers brush my wrists and the silk once again tightens around me, imprisoning me in his little kingdom.
“I love how you look tied up,” he says. “All helpless and desperate for my touch.”
I strain my neck for a kiss. My apron has ridden up again, my balls and hard cock sneaking out of the flimsy garment. My every emotion, every surge of desire, is clear to my boss. He directs a gloating look at the evidence of my sluttiness.
“Ready for me?” he says, as if it isn’t obvious.
“Yes, Boss.”
“If you want to stop, say kive flowers,” he says.
“Okay.” I’m at the edge of my breath, desperate for him to get started, but I appreciate his care. I expect nothing less from him now that I know him. His serious side is even more evident in these games than ever before.
He stands up straight, towering over me, and gives me an arrogant stare. “Ready for your next orders?”
“Yes, Boss.” Never been more ready in my life.
“All right. Here are your lines. You can only say Yes Boss, no Boss, and thank you Boss. Oh, and you can say please.”
I try to remember everything. He barked it all out at once, like he’s afraid he won’t be in control of his brain for much longer.
It might be partly my fault. I’m giving him the filthiest come-on look I can manage.
His eyes are dark as he gets an eyeful. I hold tightly to the bed frame as he looks me over.
“The perfect servant,” he says.
His erection takes all my attention, huge shaft straining for his stomach from a luxurious bed of dark hair.
I half-wish he would let me touch. But not really.
Being told what to do sends me wild. Very slowly, he takes my cock in his huge fist, just like I imagined when I first saw him in the casino.
But back then I thought it would be quick, filthy and impersonal.
I never expected to be tied to his bed with silk, like he wants to spoil me and never let me go.
I never expected to see him looking at me like that.
Not like a one night stand. Like I’m all his dreams come true.
I just stare up at him, barely able to breathe.
He runs his hand under me to tease at my perineum and my eyes roll back. And then he steps away.
“What are you doing?” I say, writhing, trying to get back on his hand. It’s impossible since I can’t move from the bedframe.
“That’s not one of your lines,” he says.
Fuck. What were the approved lines, anyway? Not many. Being forced to give up most of my verbal ability is red hot. It takes me to a simpler place in my mind. Raw, animalistic, hungry.
“Please, Boss,” I breathe, softer than air. “Please?”
“Nope. Not yet.”
“But—”
He holds up one finger. “You’re going to wait here for fifteen minutes.”
And then, to make it even harder, he turns the clock away so I can’t see it. And then, to make it even harder, he teases me again with his skillful hand, bringing me to a cruel level of breathless want. I whimper piteously, forming no words. A loophole? But he’s relentless.
“Fifteen minutes,” he says, and walks away.
I’d love to disobey his order and reach down to bring myself relief.
I’m painfully hard. But I can’t because I’m lashed to the bedframe, at Grimes’ mercy.
I have no choice but to wait in my suffering until he finally, finally comes back.
Either that or yell out the safe word. I don’t want to do that.
I don’t want to break his spell over me.
If my boss thinks I can handle fifteen minutes, I can handle fifteen minutes.
That doesn’t mean I won’t give him grief about it, though. When he saunters back into the room looking smug, I give him a reproachful look.
“That was cruel. And it was way longer than fifteen minutes,” I whine.
He just grins and turns the clock back to me. I stare in disbelief. It was less than ten minutes?
“You’re that desperate for me?” he taunts. He leans close, brushes the shell of my ear with rough lips. He still hasn’t let me lend him some lip salve, stubborn as always. “Good. That’s the way I like you. And stop breaking the rules.”
“What? I didn’t break—”
He leans across me, stealing my breath as I catch the scent of his skin, and finds my other ear with his mouth. “The no talking rules. Stop breaking them,” he says.
Shit, yeah.
“Yes, Boss,” I say.
As a reward for finally getting the right line, his lips seize mine.
His kiss sends a surge of fire right to my cock.
I gasp, moaning, casting up into him, firming fast. I grind my erection into him.
He returns my kiss with interest. He rearranges the apron; I think he likes looking at the effect when it tents over my rising cock.
“I’m ready for you now,” he whispers, and my head explodes.
“Y-yes, Boss,” I whimper.
“That’s what I was doing while I made you wait. You thought I was just being cruel?”
“No, Boss,” I lie, excitement coursing through me.
“I was prepping myself for you, getting my hole nice and ready for you. It’s been… a while since I did this.”
His confident Boss tone falters for a moment, making me want to hold him close. And now I’m worrying about his quick prep. When he said a while, it sounded like he really meant it. I don’t want him to get hurt because of his impatience for me.
“Maybe we should go slower, then,” I say.
Then I suddenly remember the dildo he shoved in my mouth when he spanked me.
Maybe all this time I’ve been waiting for him to take me to the bedroom, all this time I thought he was holding back because of my terrible experience at the fair or because of our complicated history, he's been fucking himself with that dildo and thinking of me.
The thought makes my nerves tingle. I look up and meet his eyes.