Pushing me against the stone wall, he pulls my hands over my head, keeping them there as he kisses me. More of a devouring; greedy and harsh.
“I have wanted this all day,” he groans against my neck. “You’ve been bouncing around the house in those tight little pants. Torturing me with your perfect, round ass.”
One hand slides down, squeezing my butt tightly and sending me up on tiptoe. He yanks my pants and undies down, slipping his palm between my legs and gripping and squeezing my center the way he did my ass. It’s so shockingly, unexpectedly filthy that I can feel the first ripples go through me and based on his feral grin, he feels it too.
“Greedy little thing. All ready to come, so wet for me.”
With a speed that makes me yelp, he turns me to the right, away from the wall and I see he’s added new furniture to the rooftop, a huge bed, suspended by ropes and covered with silky green linens and blue pillows.
“Where did this come from?” I moan as he bends me over it, his hand on my back and shoving my face down.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” he growls, biting my neck, my shoulder. “There’s a club I’ve been wanting to take you to- Dante’s Inferno. There’s a room there with all kinds of swings. The thought of you, tied up on a swing, bouncing you off my cock and you helpless to do anything about it. You’d just have to take it, wouldn’t you? Just like tonight. What’s your safe word, baby?”
“Gibraltar.” My voice is muffled, my face pressed into a pillow but he seems to hear me because he’s down on his knees, biting my ass cheek hard and slapping the other one.
“You’re so wet already, baby,” his voice is dark and gloating, none of his urbane calm here. Mason is hungry. Two thick fingers slide inside me as his tongue teases my clitoris and every muscle in me turns to concrete. It’s too much; his cool fingers driving inside me and when he presses against that spot, that perfect place I let out a groan I wish I could take back because I feel him laugh against me. “Better hush, baby. You don’t want the neighbors hearing you.”
To my horror, I realize that Arabella and Logan are up on their rooftop, inside their wonderful bell tower that looks out over the square. They can’t see us from this angle, but the sound of their voices carries over here, so I know they can certainly hear me. Burying my face in the pillow, I moan as he adds another finger inside me and bites my ass again.
“Be a good- be my sweet lass now and keep quiet,” he rasps, rubbing his stubbly chin against my wet center, an exquisite scratch that makes me arch my back, offering myself shamelessly. “So slick, I can feel you pulse around my fingers. When I’m inside you, I can feel your heartbeat.”
“Please,” I’m trying to whisper. “Please please please Mason, please.”
“How sweet, asking so nicely, aren’t you?” He flips me over, his tall form casting me into shadow. Pulling a silk rope from one corner, he flips it over the beam that holds the bed and ties it around my ankle, pulling it up and does the same to my other one, bringing my ass to the edge of the bed. I’m spread open, so wide and I would die of embarrassment but for his stare, his eyes looking between my legs, tied open and nothing I can do to hide. I just have to let him do what he wants.
Lifting that silver tie, he enjoys my anxious look as he strolls around behind me. “Lift your arms.” I do, crossing my hands at the wrist the way he likes, but he doesn’t use the tie. There’s another soft rope binding my hands together and-
“Oh!”
Mason whipped my breasts with his tie. He’s spanked me, many times, used a crop and once, his belt. I’d never come harder. Butthis…
“Shhh. Do you want them to hear you?” He leans over, whispering like the devil on my shoulder. “Do you have an exhibitionist streak I didn’t know about, wife? Does that turn you on, knowing they could hear you come?”
Eyes wide, I shake my head decisively and let out a gasp as the tie whips across my stomach, my inner thigh, leaving trails of fire behind it. It burns in a different way, tingling and the fiery little streaks it leaves makes me try to close my legs, rub my thighs together, get some kind of relief but the next snap of the tie is right between my legs and this time, I shriek.
Oh, god they’re silent, Logan and Arabella.Please don’t be looking over here,I pray feverishly.It didn’t come from our place. It was a cat. Or a peacock. Do they have those here?
My center is ablaze, my lower lips plump and wet, stinging, and desperate for more. Mason raises the tie with a wicked smile. “Anything to say, sweetheart? I can whip your wet little cunt, make you swollen and hot, force my cock inside you and make you come hard enough to pass out. But all that noise…”
“Put- gag me,” I whisper, the words tumbling out of me. “Gag me, keep me quiet. Let me be your good girl.”
Both of us freeze for a moment and then his eyes light up with an unholy sort of joy. He grabs my wet undies from the undignified little pile of clothes he stripped off me and… And…
Shoves them in my mouth.
The salty sweet taste of me is all over my tongue and my skin flames red as he groans, gripping his cock like he’s trying to keep from coming. Yanking down his boxer briefs, his cock springs free and slaps up against his stomach. Stroking it, running his thumb over the wet tip, Mason brings the wet tie down between my legs again. It snaps against my clitoris and I come. The vicious spark of pain turns into something lush and sweet and god, do I come, shaking and moaning into my gag.
“You can’t tell me your safe word with your mouth full,” he says, leaning over me and kissing one breast, then the other. “Snap your fingers twice if ye want to stop, aye?”
Your Scottish is showing…I think. I nod, shaking with the aftereffects of my orgasm and watching his hand holding the tie. The fact that it’s stained with my slick is mortifying and filthy and I’m secretly thrilled about it.
Another slap on the thin skin of my inner thigh. Another streak of fire across my stomach. One more on my pussy and then he slams his cock into me, groaning with a tortured kind of relief and hitting hard inside me, short, punishing thrusts and all I can do is lie here and take it, blissfully free of any responsibility.
“This cunt belongs to me,” he grunts, “these sweet breasts.” I clamp down on his cock when he pinches my nipple and he growls, his golden, leonine head thrown back, struggling for control.
Andthatbelongs to me.
The bed is swinging back and forth, the momentum increasing as he thrusts into me harder, helping him push in and out. I can feel him swelling inside me, thicker than I thought anything could be and when my beautiful, diabolical husband pinches my clit and whispers, “Be my good girl. Come for me.”
