No Mr. Funny. Not now.
“I want an answer, pet.”
His face went serious. “I don’t know what I need,” he said softly.
“Okay.” At least that was a response. “We’ll figure it out together.”
He pulled her jeans down, lowering himself to the floor along with them. He looked at her bare feet, palmed one foot, helped her balance while he tugged off the denim.
“You like me barefoot?”
“I like you everything.”
Sam laughed and slid the jeans away with her toes.
“I bet you like knowing you’re gonna come soon.”
He licked his bottom lip and stood. “Am I?”
“You’ll be no good to me all amped up.” She made a fist in his shirt, pulled him close and whispered, “I’m betting you’re out of your damn mind by now.”
His throat worked. “I’m struggling, Mistress.”
“We can’t have that.” Although, she liked his suffering. A lot. “Take my bra off.”
Without breaking eye contact, Brady reached around behind her and undid the clasp. He pulled the straps until the cups fell away, and then his gaze fell, eyes darting to her nipples and up again.
“May I?”
Was it the way he was asking for permission, or the hungry look in his eyes that made her want to let him touch? For years, her breasts had been for nursing her children, not for pleasure. But not anymore.
“You may.”
Brady’s touch was almost reverent as he brushed his knuckles along the underside of one breast, then the other. Dropping her bra to the floor, he moved in close, and God did she love the sheer mass of him, big arms and hands to match. Her eyes fluttered shut as he skimmed a thumb over her nipples. They grew tighter, more puckered with every stroke.
Did he know what his worship did to her?
“I’m afraid you don’t want this,” Brady breathed. “Not the way I do.”
“That’s not true,” she said.
She wanted—to take with abandon, to see how he reacted to the plug and the vibrating ring. But more than that, she wanted that tormented look on his face, to watch his head press back against the mattress, his muscles tightening as he begged and cried out in anguished pleasure.
“The way you want me, pet, I want you, too. The way you’ve been thinking about me, I’ve done the same.”
Sam took his hands in hers and held them.
“You want to be on your knees, and I want to put you there. You want to be controlled. I want to control you. I’m as desperate for this as you are.”
It was so clear now, how a hidden part of her had been starving for this. She loved pushing him into that place he got to as her pet, loved the place in her head it put her in. She wanted him there—she couldn’t stop herself—and she didn’t want to wait any longer.
She had power here. It was time for her to take it.
“You have one choice to make tonight, pet. The rest are all mine.”
“What choice is that?”
Sam smiled. “How do you want to come?”
15
It was fun to watch Brady swallow as he thought out his answer.
“I only get to come once?” he asked.
Sam chuckled. “Greedy boy. You’ll come again. But how it happens, the first time, is up to you. After that…” She got close enough to whisper, “I decide.”
He licked his lips, worked his jaw a little. Then he stepped quickly over to the nightstand, fished out a condom and hurried back to her.
Sam laughed and took it from his outstretched hand. “I have a feeling this won’t last long.”
His face went red. For a moment, she wondered if she’d gone too far. But she’d seen it before—his relationship with being ashamed and aroused. They seemed to go hand-in-hand. And power coursed through her when she saw what it did to him.
Sam took off her panties, then sat on the bed and moved the toys and cuffs out of the way. “Well?”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Yanking his crewneck over his head, Brady whipped off the rest of his clothes. Clumsy in a kind of schoolboy eagerness, he clambered onto the bed. Sam handed him back the condom. Letting him roll it on, she reached out to finger the silvery links of the chains surrounding them.
“I like these,” she said.
“Yeah?” He was breathless. Hungry.
“Yeah. I like the way they’re going to sound when you’re trapped in them.”
Another strangled grunt was her reply. Sheathed, Brady bent over her, his giant arms surrounding her like a cage, but he held himself still.
Sam wrapped one hand around his neck. “Go ahead, pet. We both know how much you need it.”
She needed it, too. More than she was willing to say.
She watched as his tip pressed forward, and oh, that burning stretch. The sensation of being filled. Sam could feel him tensing, trying to move slowly when he couldn’t. The effort made him shake.
“Don’t hold back,” she whispered. “Take what you need.”
He answered with a soft moan, then started to thrust. She pulled him to her and drove her fingers through the curls at his nape. His mouth against her neck, he anchored one hand against the headboard, the other by her side. His massive shoulder eclipsed the room from her view.
Sam eased her free hand between them, eyes closing on a gasp when she found her clit. One circle. Two. Faster and then slow, ’cause fuck she wanted this to last. But it wasn’t going to. Barely a minute later, Brady’s breathing grew labored, his movements choppy.
“Gonna come,” he said, his voice sharp and high.
She let him, putting aside her need for release and using both hands to dig into his back. He came with a startled sound, like he was surprised how good it felt, like he’d never done this before. Sam hummed into his ear as he gasped against her neck.
“Do that again?” he asked.
She hadn’t realized she was doing it, half the time. But now that she knew he liked it, she held him close and did as he asked, dragging out the sound. He shook, hard.
He moved back, disposed of the condom. His smile was sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. What you should be saying is thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Now, my fun starts.”
She sat up and pointed to the spot she’d just been in. Brady grinned and extended his limbs in a spread-eagled position, long legs and tremendous arms nearly taking up the entire bed. For the first time in a while, she was glad they’d bought this monstrosity of a mattress.
Restraining him was awkward, and it took a while. First she did the clasps wrong, and she needed his help figuring out how the O-rings worked, but seeing the finished product—his arms by his head, elbows by his ears, feet restrained at the ankles—was so pretty she almost wanted to take a picture.
“All mine,” she said, dancing her touch over one thigh, then the other. “I want you to tell me if you start losing feeling anywhere. If your fingers start to tingle or your knee locks up. You’re gonna be in this position awhile.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “Yes, Mistress.”
She continued stroking, skating her touch across his skin. Having him leashed like this, his shaking limbs and strength tested against the restraints, was an incredible aphrodisiac.
“How does it feel?” she asked. “Being all tied up.”
“I like it,” he answered. “Feels safe.”
“Safe how?”
He glanced up at one arm, tugged the restraints and then shifted his head again. “It’s comforting. Keeps me tethered. Grounded.” His gaze was steady. “Focused on you.”
Sam shivered. Climbing onto the bed, she shimmied up his body, maneuvered herself over him until she’d fitted her knees on either side of his arms, the bottoms of her feet along his sides, thighs spread over his face.
“Are you focused now?” she asked.
He nodded, staring up at her, positiv
ely entranced. Sam braced her hands on the headboard for balance and lowered herself slowly until her clit grazed his mouth. His tongue came out in a gentle lap, then again, pointed right where she was the most sensitive. Her head sank back. As if he’d had them memorized, he mapped out all her spots, backing off and homing in on them, until her legs shook.
“I was going to fuck you, pet,” she panted, grinding down on him. “But I think I’m gonna stay right here.”
He moaned against her skin. The chains holding his arms pinged with the movement of his clenched fists—the only other sound of his eager assent. He angled his chin, worked it toward her pussy, facial hair rasping in a sharp tickle. Sam lifted up so he could drive his tongue inside. The sight of his face all wet and slippery was obscene, but fuck, who cared? Sam certainly didn’t, not when her orgasm crested. Spreading her fingers wide against the wall, she arched back to get his mouth on her needy, swollen clit. He flicked his tongue there, that one sensitive spot that triggered her downfall. Christ, had it always been this good?
“Watch me.” Her order was high-pitched, desperate, but she hadn’t needed to give it. Brady’s eyes were trained on her face as he worked her harder, desperate to see her tremble and give in.
Why was it that he paid attention to her here, but nowhere else?
Sam’s release crashed over her, and her eyes slammed closed from pleasure. When she’d recovered, Brady was still watching her, a small smile on his face.
“Jesus,” she said, barely able to catch her breath as she moved to the side. “How is it you can’t remember where anything goes in the kitchen, but you remember that?”
Oh, God. Wrong thing to say. It broke through their roles, broke Sam and Brady into Mistress and pet. Why was she always fucking things up? But Brady didn’t look unhappy. If anything, he looked amused.
“Good question,” he said, lips shining with a goofy grin. “I guess it’s because I want to know this. Because I was paying attention when you taught me.”
She was so relieved not to have destroyed the moment she barely heard his answer.
She needed to recover her footing.
Sam crawled around his giant body, found a home for herself against the hollow of his hip. “I was paying attention when you showed me what you liked, too.”
He hadn’t shown her, not the same way, that first night she’d gone down on him eons ago. But she’d listened to his noises, catalogued the twitches and the hisses, and she knew his spots as well as he knew hers. She was looking for forgiveness now, when she took him half-hard into her mouth. Slow sucks, drawn-out movements with him hitting the back of her throat—that was what got Brady going. A few minutes later, he was standing at attention.
“Are you all needy and desperate again, pet?”
Her voice had taken on that taunting tone, the one that neared the edges of unkind. She didn’t mean to do it—she was mad at herself for messing up here, not him—but Brady seemed to like it. He made a low noise of agreement, combined with a slow nod. He looked almost drugged, eyelids drooping despite the tension in his restrained arms and legs.
Reaching for the towel she’d stashed under the bed, Sam gently wiped his mouth, gathered the new toys and knelt between his spread legs.
“Well, you’re gonna get more desperate.”
The sound of his whimper was the most addictive thing she’d ever heard. She reworked the restraints on his legs, lessening the slack so he could move.
“Knees up,” she told him, figuring he’d tell her if his old injury hurt, then reached for the cock ring.
His gaze zoomed in on the item in her hands—a matte silicone device that was thin and round on the bottom and flat on top.
“It’s all charged up and ready to go,” she said. “Just like you.”
She stretched it open and fit it around him. It contracted snugly at his base, making him even more enormous. Her pulse raced in anticipation as she tapped the button on the side.
“This time—” she said, starting him up at a teasing murmur, “—you aren’t allowed to come until I say so.”
Brady jolted and his mouth dropped open.
“Like that?”
His hips swiveled and rose up into nothing. “Yes.”
“I thought so.” But she had to be sure. Sam found the bottle of lube, popped it open and drizzled it over him. “What was the other thing you said you liked the other day? My hands?”
She punctuated the question by slicking two fists over his stiff flesh. Brady’s loud moan made her laugh. “Oh, yes. You do like that.”
He gave her a quick, shaky nod, brows drawn together as he lifted up to meet her strokes. As much as he could anyway, chained up like that. Making sure her fingers were coated with lube, Sam kept one hand on him and dropped the other lower. Slowly, like she was approaching a scared animal. When he didn’t flinch, she ran her thumb over his rear entrance in circles, first gently, then with more pressure.
“Fuck.” Brady fought against the chains. His eyes were like blue fire, an incredible contrast to the ruddiness of his cheeks.
“What? You don’t want this?” She circled a bit deeper. “Wasn’t someone crying out while my tongue was here the other day that he wanted to use the butt plug?”
His cock kicked in her grip, swelling even more. It was all the reply she needed.
Carefully, so carefully, Sam switched to her pinky and edged it inside him, swirled it around the entrance. Brady’s hips shot upward as he sought more of the feeling but was unable to move much with his powerful limbs so tightly tethered. She pushed past that first tight ring of muscle and smiled at his full-body shudder.
“Oh…fuck,” he choked out.
“Such bad language.” She thought she’d have to tell him to relax, but he gave in easily, his body eagerly taking her in. “Such a dirty mouth on my dirty boy.”
When they’d gone a few minutes like that, she slowly switched fingers, turning up the intensity on the ring to distract him before pressing her middle finger inside. Curling it upward, she waited until she found that small, chestnut-sized ridge. Brady’s body bowed off the bed.
“Is that it?”
He didn’t reply, just moaned. She did it again and he shook hard, rattling his restraints. Sam grinned wildly, her heart racing. Such an incredible rush, to have this tremendous man at her mercy. She’d been mad at herself for not being better at this, but her aggravation washed away in the heat of his eyes, in the sweaty flex of his body.
“Tell me how much you like this.”
Brady grunted in response, his brows pinched as if he was in pain. She would’ve preferred words, but it was all there, in his body language, his torso rolling like a wave. He pulsed between her fingers and whimpered again, head snapping up to look at her hands in both a plea and a warning.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she warned, easing off the stroking and slipping her finger free. “You’re not coming yet.”
Brady sagged against the bed, hips phantom-thrusting. “Please,” he moaned.
“Please,” Sam mimicked back, which seemed to only make him shake harder. It was cruel, to taunt him, to make him wait, but that fierce blush of his told her he was enjoying the torment. “Poor pet. Your whimpers are so delightfully pathetic.”
Brady tensed, squeezed his eyes shut. Every muscle suddenly went taut, she assumed from the orgasm denial. He was practically convulsing in his need to come. She’d give him what he needed. But first, one more taunt. She turned the vibrations up a level and relished in his gasp.
“Should we put the horny little sub out of his misery?”
It was odd talking about him in third person, and in a tone she’d use with a child. She’d have hated talking to him like that in any other arena, but here, she loved it.
“Pet needs to come again, doesn’t he? He needs to come all over his Mistress’ hands.”
He cringed, his eyes shut so tight creases appeared on his forehead. He turned his face to the side, hid it in the curve of his biceps. Sam
hesitated, wondering if she should check in, but worried it would break the mood. He hadn’t used his safeword. He hadn’t said much of anything, actually, but if he couldn’t tell her what he needed, she had to figure it out by watching him. All the physical signs of his pleasure were there, in the way he hissed and shifted up toward her touch, in the gleaming spot of pre-come at the tip of his cock. He was deep in what was happening in his body, and she wanted to drive him deeper.
She picked up the plug, thin and curved rubber with a solid flare at the base, and drenched it in lube. Teasing it against his rim, she wrapped her hand around his cock. Her fingers didn’t meet her thumb. She’d never seen him this huge.
“You’re so ready for this, pet. So ready to have your ass filled. I can’t wait to see what this does to you.”
He trembled, mouth firmly pressed against his arm. Sam took that as a sign of his assent and slid the toy forward, pumping it gently back and forth whenever she felt resistance. Brady’s head jerked up, mouth open, brows slanted. She moved the toy in circles, and his head fell back again. His thighs jolted every time she swirled it around.
“I wish you could see yourself,” she said on a firm, long stroke along his cock. “How helpless you are.”
He made the most incredibly tortured sound. It was beautiful.
Filthy and dirty and fucking beautiful.
She angled the toy upward so it rubbed against his prostate. Brady thrashed against the chains. “Mistress,” he moaned.
He swelled in her hand. Sam smirked.
“I haven’t said you could come yet, have I?” She stroked him faster as she said it, fucked him with the plug. It was mean to admonish him when he was this close, but she couldn’t help it. “Did you forget that you need my permission? Did I say you could?”
His head shot up again. “Oh fuck, please.”
“Please what?”
“Pleaseletmecome!”
The words mashed together so fast, his desperation clear in the tension of his body, the frantic movements of his hips. She paused for one last, delicious second, and then gave him what he needed.
Their Discovery (Legally Bound Book 3) Page 16