Luke releases my hips and cups his steaming hands, repeatedly pouring the hot water over my nipples. The interplay of the cooling night air against the water dripping on them is mind-blowing, like some sexy version of water torture.
If he keeps doing this long enough, I might even be able to orgasm from it. Luke leans in, nibbling my ear lobe. I’ve never liked someone’s mouth on my ear before, but apparently no one else knew how to do it right. Because the way he uses his teeth has my pulse racing. I feel his sharp teeth nip at me and hiss in a breath.
“Look at you,mon petit chou.Spread out for me like a feast.”
He quits teasing my breasts with the water and changes over to torturing me with his hands. Using his grip on my breasts, he moves my body slightly in the water until the jet is dangerously close to my core.
He continues to massage and knead my breasts, whispering a torrent of incomprehensible but utterly bewitching French into my ear until I can't help but beg, “Luke, please!”
“Luke? No,ma petite fille coquiner, what do you think you should call me?”
His voice is soft in my ear, quiet and restrained in juxtaposition to my current predicament. I’m trying to think, but my brain feels so fuzzy. How can he expect me to think when I’m walking the edge of this precipice?
“Sir,” I call out, getting desperate for something more than what he is giving me. I think it’s a damn fine guess. It must be good enough to get me what I want. He tsks in my ear.
“Closer,” he says as he moves my lower half infinitesimally nearer to the jet.
“I don’t know,” I whine, my body demanding release. The entire night has been waves of foreplay, and I’m at the end of my rope. I try to move my hips closer, but his grip is iron. My arms tense, my hands frantically clasping each other behind his head, tangled in his braids.
“Master?” I guess, impressed that my synapses are firing at all now. I can’t keep my eyes open, feeling like I am going to implode in on myself in my desperation.
“Closer,” he chuckles as he again minutely moves my body. He reaches down his hand and grips the crotch of my fishnet stockings and pulls, ripping them apart with primal passion. He returns his hand back to my breast and whispers darkly into my ear, “Reach down and spread yourself open for me.”
Fuck, his dirty talk is killing me! I follow his instructions, reaching down with one hand to pull my panties to the side, too far gone in my need to even feel embarrassed or question what he is telling me to do. My other arm clings to the back of his neck.
He moves me just right and the jet bursts over my exposed clit. I spread my lips further, moaning at the jets rushing across me.
I get so close, but he firmly moves me just to the side, away from the force of the jet. Panting, I’m both loving and hating being on this razor’s edge, not knowing how much more I can take. Luke grips my breasts harder, breathing heavily into my ear.
“When you come for me, you will scream ‘my Lord’. You worship at my altar tonight. Understand? Say, ‘Yes, my Lord.’”
“Yes, my Lord,” I grind out between clenched teeth. Rewarded with returning to the intense rushing water.
“Louder,” he demands harshly, his voice losing the restraint he had been so carefully clinging to.
“Yes, my Lord,” I call out. I’m so close, I can feel the pressure building deep inside me, ready to burst out to the surface. I would have called him Jesus Christ Superstar if he had asked.
He repositions me just a fraction of an inch away. It takes me a minute to realize the keening sound is coming from my mouth.
“Again,” he says louder and more forcefully, just as he pinches my nipples hard and sinks his teeth into my neck.
He shifts me back into the full force of the jet and the combined sensations of pleasure and pain coalesce and gather in my core to explode out. The teasing throughout the night and edging were all worth it for this explosive moment.
“Fuck, my Lord!” I scream into the night air, oblivious to anything around me, existing purely in the moment of this intense, earth-shattering orgasm as it pulses from deep within my belly and licks out along my limbs like the fire of his whips.
Luke slides his hand down over mine and cups my pussy, helping me grind out the aftershocks away from the intense blast of the jet. They keep rolling through me as he gathers me against his chest.
“One more,” he growls and slips his hand past mine, sliding two fingers deep into me and curling them forward to some secret magic spot. His fingers feel like live fire inside me. I'm surprised this new onslaught has me coming hard again, unused to multiple orgasms.
I can feel myself clamping down on his hand, my walls fluttering around him. My body feels like it is melting away, filled with his heat and surrounded by the steaming water. I'm on fire.
He captures my cry with his mouth, plunging his tongue inside, fucking my mouth with it. I can imagine what kind of lover he would be, raw and brutal, so passionate and fearfully wild.
I don’t know if I could survive him. And I don’t know that I want to.
I can feel his impressive erection digging into my hip, and I have the craziest thought of just straddling him and impaling myself on it in my post orgasmic bliss. I must move to do so when Luke pulls back, nuzzling my nose with his.
“Non pas encore ma chérie.”
