Chapter Thirty
Max
I know this makes me a masochist, and the lie of it all makes me a fucking bastard.
Unforgivable and wrong. But I can’t stop myself.
I need to touch her, taste her, kiss those fucking lips.
My job is to provide whatever my submissive needs, and I take this part of my life extremely seriously.
Whether pleasure, pain, punishment, or worship, I’m well-versed in the language of dominance and control.
But Sutton Hart makes me forget everything, all the years of discipline and dedication.
I don’t just want to be her Dominant. I crave so much more, something so much deeper.
I ache with need.
I’ve been close to my subs before—profound bonds are built through this experience, ties that naturally occur in such extreme relationships—but the desire to take as much as I give has never been as strong as it is with Sutton.
It’s taking everything in me to be a good Dominant when all I want to do is fuck her until we’re both senseless and sated, then spend the next forty years of our lives waking up beside her every goddamn day to do it again and again and again.
She has me. Mind, body… soul.
If she asked for my heart, I’d carve open my chest and give it to her on a silver fucking platter, beating and bloody and hers.
All of me, hers.
I’m careful to remain silent as I lick my way over the canvas of her skin, even though it takes effort to keep from moaning at every taste.
My mouth explores while my hands map out the course, kneading and teasing, pinching and caressing.
She moans and moves with me, arching her back when I lick across a ticklish place, or groaning when I nip at her skin.
I move toward the front, working my way up her legs, careful to keep my face downward as I work my way up. If she peeks, she’ll see a head of dark, nearly-black hair.
Maybe she’ll figure it out and call me on my lie.
But I fucking hope not.
Not yet.
Not when I still have so much to explore.
I kiss my way upward and her hands flex at her sides. I know she wants to touch me, to dig those fingers into my hair and drag my mouth where she wants it.
As I rise from a squatting position, I reach up and cup her throat, tilting her head back so she’s looking at the ceiling.
It gives me more room to taste her tits without getting caught.
I doubt she can see much of anything with the blindfold mask covering her eyes, but there’s always a chance she could catch a glimpse between her cheek and the fabric.
Or, perhaps, if she felt so inclined, she could rip the thing off completely and destroy this moment.
And any that might have followed.
So I keep her head tilted back, gripping her firmly as I close my mouth over her left breast. She moans, then her hands finally move. She reaches for me, dragging her fingers through my hair—
It’s too fucking much, finally being touched by her.
I moan around her breast, then pull it firmly into my mouth, sucking so hard I know the instant I draw a shock of pain to the tip of her nipple because she bucks forward.
Releasing her breast with a pop, I move to the other, scraping my teeth over the soft flesh, then closing my mouth over her nipple.
This time I bite down, just enough to make her gasp.
The sound has a straight connection to my cock, and I have to adjust myself as the pressure of my jeans becomes too much. Returning my hand to her body, I reach around her and dig my fingers into her plump ass, massaging as I pull her closer.
She groans and I close my eyes.
Goddamn what I wouldn’t do to make love to this woman.
Her hands tug at my hair and I realize she’s guiding me to her other breast. Smirking, I allow her to take control for just a moment, following the direction she tugs until I’m sucking again on her other nipple.
“Dominus,” she begs, my name just a breathy whimper.
I want to speak so badly, to tell her how I feel, how badly I want to sink inside of her, how it’s been me all along.
All. Along.
But I can’t. This isn’t the way I come clean, not while I’m ravishing her.
So I push my betrayal aside and focus on the woman in my arms.
With a playful tap on her ass, I slide my hand down as I kiss my way down her stomach, then I lift her thigh—
“Oh god, yes,” she cries, eagerly following my lead until she’s got one leg draped over my shoulder.
I kiss up the inside of her thigh, licking and nipping at her tender flesh as I make my way to her core, still with that one hand gripped on her neck, keeping her head tilted back.
Her fingers twist in my hair, nudging me closer to her cunt.
I have to bite back a smile at how needy she is.
I press my nose to her mound of curls, breathing in deeply and trying to memorize the scent of her in case it’s the last time I ever find myself between this woman’s perfect legs.
Then I drag my tongue through her folds and nearly moan as the taste of her hits my tastebuds, salty and sweet, tart and so fucking delicious I think nothing will ever even come close to this moment again.
I plunge my tongue inside her, pressing as firmly as I can to get as deep as I can, and her hips rock forward.
Good girl.
I wish I could tell her to follow her body’s demands, to trust herself to seek what she needs, but as I continue to lick and toy with her sweet cunt, I realize I don’t have to say a word.
She rocks her hips, riding my face as I eat her out.
The sounds she makes, hot fucking damn, they’re incredible. Each whimper and moan shoots a path straight down to my cock. My balls are taut, tight up against my body, begging for release.
“Oh, fuck, Dominus,” she cries.
She’s so close.
And so am I. Too fucking close.
I shake my head, pushing that thought aside because fuck it.
Lapping at her wetness, I press my nose against her clit and move from side to side, engaging as much of her flesh as possible to overwhelm her with sensations.
With the hand I have bracing her ass, I move between her legs and drive two fingers inside her.
My body jerks in response to the clenching of her walls.
My thighs tense and flex.
I close my eyes as I push us both over the edge.
“Sir, please.”
It’s that fucking please that does me in. My own hips jerk forward and I moan against her hot flesh as I come, fingers flexing around her throat, the other hand pumping in and out of her in punishing strokes.
Her thighs tense.
Her hands freeze in my hair.
And when she comes, fuck me, she comes with a gush of arousal that soaks my tongue, drips down my chin.
Her body quakes and quivers, and when the last wave has torn through her, the leg she’s standing on begins to give out, buckling even as I hold her up.
I lower her to the floor, quickly placing a pillow behind her head, then adjusting her mask so she can’t catch a glimpse of me. I take a moment to really drink her in, from that beautiful, swollen paradise between her legs to the marks I left on her stomach, her breasts, to that knockout smile.
My god, that smile is a sight to see.
My chest swells with pride.
Someday, when I’m old and alone because I fucked things up by lying to the best woman to ever enter my life, I’ll think back on this moment and remember how goddamn incredible it felt to be the one who put that smile on Sutton Hart’s face.