She never wanted this night with her Protector to end.
21
BRAZE
Gods, he loved making her come.
The feeling was a drug—a fire in his veins. Holding her curvy, trembling body against his, feeling her inner muscles clench rhythmically around his fingers as she came—it was a fantasy he’d replayed in his mind a thousand times since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her.
To be of such intimate service, to be the one trusted to bring her pleasure, to witness the fierce beauty of her surrender… it was everything. It was more than duty to him—it was the worship of his own personal goddess.
But he wanted more—he hoped desperately that their night together wasn’t over. He hoped she would allow him to continue serving her, pleasing her—proving his devotion in the most fundamental way a male could.
Finally, Kaitlyn stirred in his arms. Her shaking had subsided into gentle tremors, then into a boneless relaxation. She turned within the circle of his embrace, her slick skin sliding against his. She tilted her head up, her eyes still hazy with pleasure, and pulled him down.
Their lips met.
It was their first kiss and Braze wanted to take his time. Her mouth was soft and yielding, tasting of cinnamon and salt and her. His entire world narrowed to that point of contact and a wave of pure, undiluted pleasure went from his lips straight to his cock, which was still trapped, painfully hard, by the damn cock ring.
It throbbed fiercely, a demand and a promise, as he kissed her back, deepening the connection, his tongue sliding into her mouth to taste her more fully. He poured every ounce of his long-restrained hunger for her into that kiss as well as his relief that she was well and safe, his awe of her beauty and perfection, and his desperate, secret love.
When she broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice husky. Her eyes searched his face. “That was… beyond anything I’ve ever felt with any man before.”
A possessive thrill shot through him. Good. He wanted to erase the memory of every other male she’d ever been with—wanted to wipe them out completely.
“Mmm, I’m glad you liked it,” he rumbled, his own voice gravelly with emotion. “Thank you for letting me be of service to you, Mistress.”
He leaned closer, unable to help himself, and the rigid length of his cock nudged against her lower belly.
She glanced down, her brow furrowing in confusion as her gaze landed on the black leather still encasing his hips.
“Oh—why are you still dressed?”
“Can’t touch myself—remember?” He held up his right wrist, nodding at the sleek, unyielding non-con manacle encircling it.
Her eyes widened in dawning horror.
“Oh, that’s right! I never should have let them make me put those on you!” she exclaimed. “Here, let me help you.”
With some effort, since her fingers slippery from soap and water, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and yanked them down his thighs. The wet leather resisted, clinging to his skin, but she persisted—peeling them down until they pooled at his ankles. Braze stepped out, and she tossed the sodden garment into a corner of the shower with a wet slap.
“Now let’s see about this,” she murmured, her voice dropping. She sank to her knees before him, warm water swirling around her.
Braze felt a visceral thrill shoot through him at the sight—his beautiful Mistress on her knees before him.
But the thrill was instantly followed by a sharp twist of wrongness. This wasn’t the dynamic he craved—he didn’t want her submitting. He burned to be the one kneeling, serving, making her feel like a queen.
His need to submit, to please, was a physical ache deeper than the one in his cock.
Her delicate fingers found the buckle of the cruel cock ring and Braze hissed in relief as the pressure finally, blessedly released. The blood rushed back, making him even harder—the head of his shaft swollen and dark, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at the slit.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hard for hours,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on him. One soft, small hand came up to stroke his shaft, her touch exploratory and gentle. “I hope it didn’t hurt you.”
Braze’s breath caught in his throat as her fingers wrapped around him, massaging and caressing. The sensation was exquisite torment.
“No, Mistress… I’m all right,” he managed to grit out. “Kindred males can remain hard indefinitely without any damage.”
