Chapter Seven
Abigail
Jacob's words sent hungry shivers through my body. For once, I wasn't interested in dessert. Not if, by dessert, he meant food.
Something in the tone of his voice, predatory and intense, suggested he wasn't talking about whatever was in the white box.
"Come here." Jacob held out his hand for me. I stood, as if in a daze, and rounded the corner of the dining room table, my hand reaching for his.
When he had me in his grip, he arranged me in front of him, my sore ass pressing to the edge of the table, my body bracketed between his knees.
Giving my hip a light slap, he said,
"Up."
Without thinking, I hopped up onto the table. Either I was getting used to being naked, or I just didn't care anymore. My inhibitions were distracted by the hard bar of Jacob's cock tenting his suit pants.
Naked was good.
Naked meant that as soon as he got those pants off, I would be that much closer to having that cock inside me. He pulled his chair closer to the table, using his elbows to spread my knees.
My center of gravity shifted, and I fell back, propping myself up on my palms. Maybe I was dessert. I felt like it - as if I were serving myself up to him, my breasts swelling, nipples hard and so red, and my pussy still wet, soaked, and very needy.
After a long moment staring at me displayed before him, Jacob turned and opened the white bakery box. Inside, I saw a small cake only large enough for two, maybe three, servings.
I couldn't see the inside, but the frosting was a deep chocolate decorated with tufts of whipped cream. My mouth watered.
I was a sucker for chocolate. Jacob picked up the fork and scooped the bite of cake right off the side, not bothering to slice it.
Lifting the fork, he brought it to the edge of my lip and scraped the tines against my skin as if requesting entry. I opened. The chocolate and sweet cream hit my tongue in an explosion of decadent flavor.
Before I got used to it, the fork was gone. Jacob went back and dug out another bite, this time all frosting, no cake. Pressing my thighs further open, he swiped the loaded fork down the center of my pussy and dove in for his dessert.
At the first flick of his tongue, I almost choked on the cake still melting in my mouth. Nothing we had done today was normal for me.
But this . . . this was one of those things I'd read about but never experienced.
It was heaven.
Not that I would know, but I didn't think Jacob was using any special technique. At least, to start, he was just licking off the frosting. That was enough.
His tongue had barely touched me before I was back on the edge of orgasm, teetering, dying to crash down on the other side, to drown in the pleasure that had been tormenting my body since I first dropped to my knees in his office.
He knew. So far, he seemed to know exactly what my body wanted. Lifting his head, he said,
"Don't come."
"What?" The word was a scream, desperate and offended.
"Not until I tell you that you can."
He had barely enough time to smile, that mischievous glint in his eye, before he went back to work. How was I supposed to wait? What was he even talking about, don't come?
Was he insane? And when had I gone from a woman who'd only ever come on her own to one who couldn't imagine holding back another second?
How was I supposed to hold back? Didn't guys think about baseball? I didn't know anything about baseball.
And while I sensed he wanted me to let the pleasure build without spilling over, I had no idea how to find that kind of discipline.
He laughed at me, holding back my pubic hair with one hand to bare the glistening lips of my pussy and my hard red clit. I couldn't keep up.
He alternated between soft, slow licks, teasing my eager flesh, before focusing his attention on my clit and sucking hard. The first time he did that, I almost lost the battle.
I twisted under him, every movement sending the chain between my nipples shifting to one side or the other, pulling on the clamps, the painful, tugging pressure driving jolts of pleasure straight from my breasts to the spot between my legs, where Jacob had focused all of his attention.
In the distance, I heard a voice, thin, high, pleading.
"Please. Please. Please. Jacob, please."
Finally, he stopped, pushing back just enough to stand. I heard the rustle of fabric, the crinkle of foil. Then he was right there, between my legs, his hands reaching for my sore ass.
I was so aroused, so needy, that I didn't even flinch when his fingers closed over my red skin. He yanked me closer, and the press of his cock to my weeping pussy was the answer to every prayer running through my fevered brain.
"Yes. Please. Yes."
When he pressed into me, the stretching pain only pushed me higher. Like the nipple clamps and the spanking, it brought an edge I'd never known I wanted.
My head dropped back, eyes staring blindly at the ceiling. It took more than one thrust to fill me completely. I was too tight, and he was too thick. I could tell, despite his own tension, that he was trying to hold back.
I wiggled closer, trying to take as much of him as I could get. Finally, he was seated to the hilt.
When he pulled back and thrust in the first time, I thought I was going to explode. There was no way I could stop myself from coming.
I knew I had to, knew it was important to him, but my entire body had been on the edge for too long, and every stroke of his thick cock pushed me that much further.
"Jacob. Jacob, I can't. Jacob, please," I babbled, logic and sense long gone.
I teetered, feeling the orgasm cresting everywhere. My pussy, my breasts, and on the skin of my stomach, where the chain slid back and forth, teasing my sensitized flesh.
His eyes burned into me, and I knew he felt it too. I heard myself begging, words of entreaty spilling through my lips as I writhed beneath him. He gripped my hips, pinning me to the table, holding me perfectly still.
I was a vessel, there only to receive his pounding cock, and it was the best thing I'd ever felt.
"Now. Come now," he said, his voice a rasp.
At his words, the pressure inside me detonated in a white-hot wave that swept me from my head to my toes. I heard myself screaming, felt my hands clawing at him as I arched and stiffened and twisted.
He fucked me through it, driving me higher, dragging it out until I thought I'd drown. I have no idea how long the orgasm lasted, but when I came back to myself, I knew two things.
One, I would be willing to do a lot of things for that kind of pleasure. And two, Jacob was still hard inside me.
What kind of discipline did it take for Jacob to have held off his orgasm through my own? I didn't know the answer, but the question itself was a little scary.
Opening my eyes, I met Jacob's. His silver gaze was hot, intent and pleased. A slow, dreamy smile spread across my face.
His hands slid off my hips and began to stroke my skin. Not with the intent to arouse—at least, he wasn't going for any of the obvious targets.
As his fingers trailed from my shoulders, down my arms, across my stomach, and up between my breasts, it felt less like he was trying to get me hot and more as if he were soothing me.
I stretched, arching my limbs into his touch. He stopped fucking me, and instead remained completely still between my legs, filling me without moving. It didn't take long before the relaxing strokes of his fingers had me wanting more.
Just when I was beginning to wonder exactly what he was up to, Jacob’s hands stopped between my breasts. He lifted the chain and tugged.
A bolt of sharp, pained pleasure shot straight between my legs. He tugged the chain again, and my head dropped back as my pussy clenched around his cock.
Another pull on the chain, and I thrust my hips at him, trying to take more when I was already full, restless and needy all over again.
Only a few hours as Jacob's pet, and I was getting quite an education. I'd never really understood the connection between pain and pleasure.
I always thought it was fiction, one of the many things you read about that isn't real. Now I knew, not only was it real, but I was one of those women for whom pain could be a turn-on.
Not with just anyone, but I trusted Jacob. I wasn't exactly sure why, but as much as there were things about him that scared me a little, I knew I was safe with him.
"Are you ready to come again?" Jacob asked, pulling on the chain with his right hand and then his left, sending flares of exquisite need through my body.
I couldn't answer with words. I was beyond language. The only thing I wanted as much as another orgasm was to feel Jacob let go.
I needed it. To feel him come inside my body, to know that I was giving him at least a fraction of the pleasure he was giving me.
My legs were still wrapped around him, though they'd fallen loose after I came. In answer to his question, I pinned him between my thighs and used all my strength to work my pussy back and forth on his cock.
Jacob growled.
Dropping the chains, he took a clamp in each hand, slid down the rings, and released my nipples. Agony swelled in my breasts as the blood rushed back into my tortured flesh.
As quickly as it hit, the pain faded to be replaced by a pleasure so sweet, it was almost an orgasm in itself.
I gasped a sob as Jacob slipped his hands beneath my knees and pulled my legs from around him. He leaned over me, pressing my knees back, opening me obscenely wide.
This morning, being this exposed to anyone would have shocked me unconscious. Not now. Now, all I knew was the need.
Jacob hammered into me, fucking me hard, harder than I'd ever been fucked before. At his groan of release, my own orgasm tore free, along with a keening cry.
He collapsed over me, his hard chest pressing my breasts flat, as my arms came tight around him. I held on, gasping and sobbing as my orgasm took me under, then slowly eased into a glow of sated pleasure.