“Fuck. Fuuuuck,” he groans as his tongue stills, and he pulls his fingers out of me.
How did I get here? And what do I need to do for another round in pleasure town? Did he finish too? Is that what all his groaning was at the end there? I want to ask, but decide against it out of fear that my punishment might involve himrefusing to see me again, and I definitely want more time with this man.
I want to tell him that when his hands were on me, it felt like lightning coursing through my veins, traveling a path straight toward my core. I want him to know that his touch made me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt. I want him to command every inch of my body with every part of his until I’m sated.
But I’m afraid I’ve traded one problem for another. What if he’s the only person who can make me feel this way? The only one who could get close enough to me to do the things to my body that every other man has failed to do? How could I trust someone with my pleasure when I don’t know who he is or what he looks like?
CHAPTER 2
JOHN
What the fuck am I doing? I don’t fuck subs. That’s rule number one.
Well, technically I didn’t fuck her with my dick.
No, you just tongue-fucked her until she came all over your face while you came in your pants like a goddamn needy fuck, jackass.
I was supposed to touch her, maybe make her come. Just one session to show her that she could enjoy the touch of a man. But I lost control.
Ineverlose control.
The minute the words “Please, sir” fell from her perfect lips, I knew I was fucked. And now I’m between her legs with a mess in my pants as she comes down from the high of her orgasm. I stare up at her wondering how I’m going to walk away from this. My eyes track a bead of sweat as it makes its way down the valley between her breasts, gliding along her smooth skin as it trails a path down her flat stomach. I arch up and swipe at it with my tongue before it reaches her navel. Goosebumps break out across her abdomen at my touch, and my cock jumps, delighted to have this effect on her. Then I put my mask back in place and crawl out from under her.
I need to get it together. I’m the dom. I’m in charge of thescene. She has given her control over to me, and I need to remember that.
Hovering close to her ear, I’m tempted to bury my hand in her hair and pull her mouth to mine, but since touch is a trigger for her, I restrain myself.
“Such a good pet. You came so beautifully for me.” Her pants slow as her head turns toward mine. “Don’t move. It’d be a shame to punish you now.”
Grabbing what I need from the drawer to clean her up, and changing into a fresh pair of boxers and pants for myself, I gravitate back to her, telling her what I’m about to do, where I’m about to touch before I proceed. Once she’s clean, I release her from the restraints and slowly dress her, keeping her blindfold in place.
“Is the scene over? Can I take this off?” she asks, reaching for the blindfold. I grab her wrist and hold it in place, gently removing the blindfold for her. She blinks several times, her long eyelashes fluttering, casting a spell on me, testing my restraint.
Her eyes peruse my body, and I see the moment she reaches my pants. They were black when we walked in, but I’m in jeans now. It’s cute how her brows knit slightly, and her mouth drops open, before she closes it, clearly deciding against saying anything.
I cross my arms over my chest, and her pupils dilate as she stares at my biceps and pecs. I watch as she takes in all the ink there, and I’d love to know the thoughts swirling through her head as a hundred microexpressions cross her face. Fuck if it doesn’t do something to my ego seeing the lust on this beautiful woman’s face when she stares at me.
This can’t happen again. She’s way too young. I’ve got to be at least ten years older than her. She is way too inexperienced in the lifestyle, hell, in general. But fuck if I don’t have the sudden urge to explore a corruption kink. Blame it on the religious upbringing.
This was not the plan. I was supposed to help tame a brat, but she’s not really a brat. She’s clearly a sub with more than just an aversion to touch. She’s got these big brown eyes that look like an innocent doe, but track every inch of my body. Light brown hair that can’t decide if it’s dirty blonde or brown, that I want to gather in my fist and tug when I fill her from behind. And those motherfucking piercings that hint that she’s not as innocent as she seems.
“Follow me,” I say, breaking the spell as she shakes her head slightly, raising her eyebrows as she tries to clear her thoughts.
I open the door and motion her into the hallway, following behind as she walks toward Alyx’s room. I want to touch her, pull her back into my room, claim her with my hands, my mouth, and my cock. I am a weak, weak man. Instead, my hand grazes the small of her back, and she flinches slightly. Fuck.
“What was that?” I demand as she stops in her tracks, refusing to turn around and face me.
“I don’t know,” she squeaks out meekly as I circle around, stopping in front of her.
“You flinched.”
“Did I?” she says, feigning innocence, but her fingers twitch.
I don’t have time for this. If she’s not going to tell me, that’s fine. We’re steps away from Alyx’s room, steps away from her no longer being my problem. I arch my neck from side to side, cracking it to relieve my frustration. If she were actually my sub, she wouldn’t be allowed to keep secrets from me.
All of a sudden, she drops to the floor, covering her head with her hands, making herself as small as she can as she cowers in my presence. “Einstein!” she cries as her breathing picks up and her petite body starts rocking back and forth.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
