“Because I’m enjoying this far too much,” Dorian replies, laughter in his voice. “You’re so fucking needy right now, Mira. It’s adorable and obscenely arousing. I honestly think I might come in my pants like a fourteen-year-old.” He smirks. “You’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Do you need me to beg?” I try. “Please, Dorian.”
He shakes his head, massaging my thighs. “No, baby, I don’t need you to beg, though I don’t mind the sound of it. But you should know that begging will get you nowhere. I’ll still do what I want on my timetable. You’ll get what’s coming to you whenI’mready. Hearing you saypleasein that breathy, needy voice is a lovely bonus, but it won’t change my mind.”
“Youarea sadist,” I realize.
A sadist who’s decided to torture me for his own amusement…
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dorian shrugs. “According to some, yes. This is barely scratching the surface of my sadism, though. If you think a bit of edging is sadistic, I’m interested to find out what you’ll call me when I ignore your pleas for me to stop or ease up.” He lands an open palm slap on my pussy; my back arches and a loud cry escapes me. “Enough talking for now, beautiful. I think I’m almost ready for you to come.” He gives me another slap, and I choke on a yelp. “How close are you?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“I’mright there,” I moan. “I can’t take it.”
He rubs his thumb up and down my labia. “You don’t have a choice, baby. You’ll take whatever I feel like giving you. Won’t you?”
I nod emphatically.
He smiles. “Good girl. You can come now. I’ve been dying to taste you again; holding myself back while you’re laid out beneath me, bound and helpless like the most beautiful sacrifice, has beentorture.” He leans down between my legs, spreads my pussy open with his thumbs, and gives me a long, slow lick along my slit. Tension threads through every bit of me, stiffening my muscles as I reach the crest once again. This time, Dorian doesn’t pull back to try to delay it or edge me. Two of his fingers slide easily into my channel, curving upwards and hitting a spot that make tingles explode across my skin while helavishes my clit with attention. The orgasm that’s eluded me slams into me with the impact of a freight train. My back arches and I yank at my wrists, unable to control my body’s reaction as I comeloudly. So loudly I’m afraid my cries will be heard through the entire house, but I’m too lost in abandon toreallycare. My stomach contracts, my thighs tremble, and Dorian makes a growling noise that damn near drives me out of my mind.
His fingers set a slow, patient pace of sliding in and out of me, hooking over that magical spot inside me. He continues eating me through my orgasm, prolonging it and making little noises of enjoyment that drive me wild. “Too much,” I whimper after an eternity. “Dorian, please, it’s too much.”
He pulls his mouth away and stills his fingers, meeting my eyes. His have a wicked gleam that makes me genuinely anxious, because I understand that he completely meant it when he said he was just getting started. I already feel spent, and yet he’s barely begun.
“That was one,” he murmurs. “I want you to count for me, Mira.” He places a kiss on my stomach. “Each time you come, count. If you really want to please me, thank me for making you come.”
“One,” I whimper. “Thank you.”
“For?” he questions, lips tilting at the corners.
“Making me come,” I rush out.
His hint of a smile turns into a full blown one. “You’re very welcome.” His mouth returns to lavishing me with attention before I’ve truly come down from my first orgasm, sending me careening straight into a second one. Somehow, I manage to remember to count and thank him, even though my mind becomes fogged and dazed. Another orgasm follows, and then another, and by the time I’ve thanked him for mysixthorgasm, the attention to my pussy really becomes too much. I’m hypersensitive, too aroused to handle it, which doesn’tbother him the slightest bit. I start to struggle to come from his mouth—after a few minutes, he pulls away and pulls his fingers out of me. He takes a moment to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his lips, then picks up the crop again.
My eyes widen. “No—”
“That word has zero relevance to me right now,” he says, trailing it down my navel. “You know what you have to say to make things slow or stop. Unless I hearthosewords, I won’t stop. I won’t change what I’m doing. I don’t give much of a shit what you say right now, baby, because I am enjoying myselffartoo much to ease up.”
A tear sneaks out of my eye, and I consider using one of my safe words. Consider making him stop altogether, but something holds me back. I can see and feel how much he’s enjoying this scene. I don’t want to interrupt that unless I’mreallydone and genuinely can’t do any more. I’m not at that point yet; I’m still somewhat coherent, just painfully sensitive.
When I don’t say anything, he spreads my pussy with one hand and taps the crop right against my clit. My back arches and I suck in an agonized breath, eyes watering at the pulse-pounding sensation. He taps me once, twice. On the third time, the impact makes me come. It’s a different sort of orgasm; shorter, quicker, yet no less intense than the others. Surprise flares in Dorian’s eyes as he looks at me. His gaze darkens, and he growls, “Fuck, that was hot.”
I whine in response.
He smacks my clit more intensely, and reminds, “I didn’t hear you countorthank me. That’s displeasing.”
“Seven,” I manage to say. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”
He nods. “Good girl. I think I’m ready to test the toys out on you now. You’re primed and prepared for them, aren’t you?”
Although he phrases the words as a question, I know he’s not actuallyaskingfor my opinion. In this moment, unless I safe word, my opinions are completely irrelevant to him. He’s doing what feels good tohim, and what feels good tohimis watching my reactions, witnessing my pleasure, knowing thathe’sthe one reducing me to a puddle of need and sensitivity.
He retrieves two of the other toys he brought; a vibrator that suddenly looks deeply intimidating, and a slim, long dildo. “God, I want to fuck you right now,” he says wistfully.
“Please do,” I respond eagerly. I want to feel him inside me; I want to get him off the way he’s getting me off.
He shakes his head. “Not tonight. Soon, I hope, but not now. This is a punishment, Mira, remember? I think I’ve been very nice to you and pretty lenient, easing you into this scene.” The desire in his eyes darkens, and I sense the exact moment that the true sadist in him rears its head. It’s not out for blood or pain; it’s out for complete surrender and obeisance to its wishes.
