His hum vibrated against my skin, a reward in itself. Everything after that blurred between warmth, pain and pressure, teasing, pulling away. He alternated between soothing what he’d just marked and reawakening every nerve with a touch that was never quite enough.
The tension in me coiled tighter and tighter, the bullet vibrations increasing. My breath came in ragged, uneven bursts. Every sound threatening to break free. When his hand moved between my legs, pushing the bullet into my clit, I swore I was going to lose my mind.
My body was on fire, every inch having tasted the flogger. My nipples burned, but didn’t at the same time. The cross between the pain, the gentleness and the stimulus was too much. The fact I hadn’t had sex in over a year wasn’t helping either. I was so close and in an instant, it was gone. No vibration, no warmth, nothing but silence.
“Not yet, Pet.”
The words rolled through me like a promise and a threat all at once.
He moved somewhere behind me, the sound of his footsteps a soft shuffle across the floor. I strained to catch anything—cloth sliding, leather creaking, a breath—but nothing gave him away.
And then it hit me.
The voices in my head were gone.
No doubt, no second-guessing. Just silence. Just the sting, the warmth, and the ache of pleasure threaded through pain. Just him.
“Now,” he murmured. “What are we going to do with you being late?”
I closed my eyes, pointless with the blindfold, but the gesture felt instinctual. I really should’ve accepted his offer for the car.
Cold metal grazed my shoulders. A moment later, the delicate fabric of the negligee whispered to the floor.
His hands caressed down my arms, around the curves of my breasts, then nothing. The air hadn’t shifted, so I knew he was still in front of me.
He struck each nipple, each one right after the other.
“Fuck.”
“Pet,” he warned, “the rules?”
He smacked them again, harder this time.
The bullet vibrated again, stronger this time, as his hand moved down to hold it close to my clit.
“Sorry, Sir,” I gasped.
“Do you need to use your safe word?” he asked, circling my clit, dialing the intensity up another notch.
I tried to push closer to his hand; I was so fucking close. “No, Sir. Please.”
And just like before, he moved his hand away, and the vibration stopped.
I whimpered, and I’d be damned if he didn’t chuckle.
“Who owns you tonight, Pet?”
“You do, Sir.” The words came out on a sob, and God, I wanted to beg him to just fuck me and end this exquisite torment.
“What do you want, Pet?” His hand cupped one breast, massaging slowly, while his lips brushed teasing kisses over the other.
“To submit to you, Sir.”
He must have knelt then; a warm breath ghosted over my mound.
“Ask me to make you come.”
“Please, Sir,” I begged, the plea ripping out of me before I could think.
