WaitingforDessert

by Chastity Vicks

  Your breath is mine, sweetie. All of it.

  She didn’t need to say it. The connection between them had never felt deeper than it did at that moment. Ash’s breathing slowed but his gaze stayed fixed on her. She reached out, parted his lips with two fingers, hooking her fingertips over his teeth and pushing his jaw down. He acquiesced, his submission complete and perfect, gazing at her as she wadded up her damp lace panties and shoved them into his mouth.

  Vivienne smiled and patted his cheek. “Stay quiet for me, sweetie. That’s a good boy.”

  Ash moaned softly through the scrap of lace as she stepped away from the bed, smoothing her hands over her skirt. His cock was still so hard, so beautiful, still wavering in the air, waiting for her. She bit her lip as she watched him.

  “I’ll be back after dessert, okay?”

  Vivienne left the bedroom, taking care to close the door behind her, and went back to the party. Downstairs, her guests barely seemed to have noticed her absence.

  Chapter Nine

  The desserts Ash had assembled for her—the pretty little individual glasses filled with layers of coffee mousse, whipped cream and chocolate genoise sponge, garnished with shards of chocolate and tiny, sweet strawberries—were greeted with broad smiles and generous compliments. Vivienne smiled as she recalled her boy’s work in putting them together…and his face when she’d put the bowl of strawberries down in front of him.

  She slipped back into her seat and tried hard to focus on the conversation instead of her own arousal, intensely aware of her lack of underwear and unable to quite banish the memory of Ash’s gagged mouth from her mind.

  “I don’t think I’ve eaten so well in months,” Reyes remarked, grunting with pleasure around a creamy spoon of his dessert. “Mm! Beautiful.”

  Vivienne’s smile widened. She thanked him and let herself be drawn back into the chatter as the soft jazz played on and the flushed, happy faces of her colleagues grew shiny and genial in the warm light.

  The desserts were good, as was the wine, but there was only one after-dinner treat Vivienne was waiting for. Every nerve in her body seemed drawn tight with stimulation. The feel of her blouse against her skin, the coolness of her spoon against her lips and the silky glide of cream on her tongue—everything seemed to conspire to build a web that wrapped her in skeins of voluptuous sensation. She shifted in her chair, digging her spoon down through the layers of mousse, cake and cream, trying not to let her mind dwell on Ash and everything she wanted to do to him.

  Slowly that sense of competent power she’d had earlier in the evening came back, washing over her as she regained that complete, rigid control of herself. This was her place and she was in charge. She was in charge when she chatted easily with Reyes about the upcoming possibility of the company’s expansion and a brand new project in the Hamptons, and she knew she was outpacing Amanda. The knowledge gave Vivienne an ignoble flush of pleasure. She was doing exactly what she’d set out to do tonight, and doing it well.

  She finished the meal with coffee and the diners sat back from the table, content and well-fed, letting the last of the evening slide over them in a congenial kind of ebb. There was more talk about work and plenty of looking ahead to the following months—building on current successes, moving forward to capitalize on the momentum, opening up exciting new options in the industry—and the glimmer of possibility seemed to hang over everything like fine mist.

  Reyes was among the last to leave and he clasped Vivienne’s hand warmly before he stepped out into the night toward his waiting taxi, beaming at her and thanking her again for such a wonderful evening, so masterfully orchestrated. She smiled, thrilling a little with pride—and maybe the wine—and agreeing enthusiastically that yes, she would be delighted to consider attending an upcoming hospitality conference in Portland. He grinned, promising to email her the information, and headed into the pool of the cab’s headlights that burnished the gravel driveway.

  Vivienne waved him off and stood in the doorway as she made her goodbyes to Amanda and Tom, watching them climb into his car and watching her boss’s carefully neutral expression as she bade farewell to Reyes.

  The sky was inky, the stars tiny coruscating pricks of light in the blackness and her gardenia perfume—not yet quite worn away—lingered sweetly on the air, its scent a secret promise of everything yet to come. Vivienne shivered but the chill in the air couldn’t take the edge off her sense of achievement or the mounting excitement she felt at the thought they would so soon all be gone and she would have her house and the remainder of her evening back.

  That and her boy.

  * * * * *

  Vivienne let out a long breath as she closed the door behind her, leaning back on the heavy wood and listening to the glass panes rattle and the latch click into place.

  There was a beautiful, comforting finality in it and she relished the security.

  She turned, slid the brass chain into place and brushed her hands against her skirt, allowing her palms to trail slowly over the swells of her buttocks, bare beneath the black fabric. The naughtiness of going without underwear during the meal—sitting there, slick and tempted the whole damn time—had been fun in itself, but now she had a chance to breathe and collect her thoughts, Vivienne’s body was going into overdrive.

  She reached up, running her fingers down the length of her neck, tracing her collarbones and growing ever more aware of the hardness of her nipples and the irresistible thudding ache in her pussy.

  It was time.

  Vivienne tried to keep her steps measured and slow as she made her way back through the house, trying to quell the rush of excitement pouring through her. She glanced at the detritus of the dinner party and wrinkled her nose. The plates, glasses, bottles, dishes and crumpled napkins could wait. They didn’t matter.

  Nothing else mattered right now except for the quiet bump of her heels on the stairs and the gentle creak of the steps beneath her feet. Her fingers trailed the banister, the grain of the wood feeling silky and sensuous under her touch.

  The warm light from the lamp on the landing pooled around Vivienne’s feet as she stood, surveying the route to her bedroom door, and a wicked smile spread across her face.

  She moved softly across the carpet, her pink-tipped fingers closing on the door handle and she placed her palm on the wood, holding her breath as she pushed it open and slipped into the room.

  It was dark in the bedroom. That familiar blurred palette of gray and blue greeted her, Ash’s pale body limned in grainy shadows. He lay stretched out on the covers, his feet and hands still bound but his head turned to the side, watching for her. He tensed at once as Vivienne entered the room, the ropes that held him shifting against the bedframe, and he seemed to strain to catch sight of her.

  “They’ve gone, sweetie,” she said softly, leaving the door open a little behind her, highlighting the shape of her body against the light spilling from the landing.

  Ash moaned quietly around his gag, his head thumping dramatically back against the pillows, and she laughed. They’d gotten away with it. This naughty, kinky secret, this ridiculous, impulsive, crazy thing…and it had actually worked.

  She could hardly believe it and she was still running on adrenaline.

  Vivienne let her hips swing lazily as she crossed to the bed, highly aware of Ash watching her, of the tension in his tied limbs and of his half-hard cock, already waking again with the anticipation of what was to come.

  “You were very quiet, sweetie,” she said, her voice low and smooth as she reached him, trailing her fingers over his toes and the lean arch of his foot, up to the black ridge of the restraints.

  His skin was very cool to the touch but he was able to wriggle his toes in response to her touch. Given that, Vivienne couldn’t resist tickling the deliciously sensitive sole of his foot—something he utterly hated—and making him kick out, struggling against the bonds and giving vent to a ragged groan that her lace panties barely muffled.

  She glanced at
her boy’s face, taking in those wide hazel eyes, glittering dangerously in the half-light, the flared nostrils and the lips distended around his lacy gag. He’d drooled a little and the saliva had partially dried on his chin, along with, Vivienne imagined, the remnants of her juices from earlier. She wondered what he’d taste like if she licked him and she smiled languidly as she moved to the nightstand, letting her fingers idle their way up his body.

  Ash twisted and twitched beneath her touch and she marveled at the change in him. Where earlier in the evening he’d been so quiet and pliant, now the frustration of his long abandonment seemed to have stoked him into a tense anticipation. She guessed he’d been up here straining his ears as he listened to the guests depart until finally Vivienne closed the door for the last time. He’d been lying here, fixated on the threat of discovery, contemplating all the things she might do to him when they’d left, and he’d had nothing to do but wait, with every moment bringing the fantasy—the possibilities—into sharper and sharper relief.

  She pinched his left nipple between her forefinger and thumb, then flicked it with her nail and enjoyed the way he squirmed, grunting through the panties and begging her with those wide eyes, like flashes of pale moonstone in the dimness.

  “I’m going to put the light on, sweetie,” she said calmly. “Turn your head.”

  Ash obeyed and, as Vivienne leaned over to switch the bedside lamp on, she thought she heard him whimper. The warm glow of light flooded the room and he screwed his eyes shut, burying his face between the pillow and the crook of his shoulder. She caught her breath, reminded in a flood of longing how beautiful he was. The lamplight gilded his hair and threw into relief every lean swell and curve of his body, casting shadows from the angles of his hips and making his ribs look like dimpled marble. The need that had been building inside her all evening screamed for release and her fingers shook slightly as she opened the drawer of her nightstand.

  “I think it was a very productive evening,” she said, careful to keep her tone light and conversational as she rifled through the small toys that lived in her naughty drawer, smiling to herself as her fingers fastened on the small box that held a set of clover clamps. “Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves and we covered a lot of ground that’s actually going to be very relevant for work. You know, Luis suggested I should go to the EHP Conference in Portland? I think that bodes very well.”

  Tentatively Ash turned his head back toward her, breathing hard through his nose, his mouth a soft “O” around the panties and his eyes still furrowed against the unfamiliar glare of the light. His brows were drawn tightly together but the way he stared at her was more desperation than resentment. Vivienne withdrew the clamps from their box and dangled them from her fingers, smiling congenially at him.

  “Of course, it was very rude of you to stay squirreled away up here, sweetie. It would only have been polite to say hello. I think I should teach you some manners.”

  Ash’s eyes closed and he let out a long breath, a light whimper trailing the end of it as he turned his head back to her. Vivienne waited for the tension to drop from his body—it did, though his limbs still stayed a little stiff—and then leaned across him to affix the delicate metal clamps to his nipples. She smiled as she heard him breathe in, breathing in her scent and the gardenia perfume she’d worn…their fragrance, the signature of this shared time.

  She tugged lightly on the thin chain that connected the clamps, tightening them on the tender flesh and relishing Ash’s groan of pleasure-pain. She loved a pet who could get into nipple play almost as much as she loved rewarding him with this abundance of sensation.

  Vivienne leaned low over him, the air rushing in her ears as she rode the freedom of finally being alone with him, free to do as she wished.

  “Say please, slut,” she murmured, her palm flat on his torso just below the chain, her forefinger still resting gently upon it. “Say please.”

  With her other hand, she reached roughly into his mouth and pulled out the panties, freeing him from the sodden, musky scrap of lace. Ash flexed his jaw, running his tongue along the back of his teeth and swallowing experimentally. His gaze swiveled to her, his eyes wide but glassy, full of something that wasn’t quite challenge yet strayed from obedience. He licked his lips.

  “P-please,” he whispered huskily, his breath warming her face. “Please, Miss.”

  Vivienne leaned in and kissed him hard, giving a light tug on the chain as she tossed the wet panties to the floor. He groaned and she forced his lips apart with her tongue, demanding that he yield to her intrusion.

  He pushed up into her, opening himself completely, giving her everything, and she pulled harder on the chain. Vivienne grabbed Ash’s face in her fingers, squeezing his cheeks. She sucked on his lower lip as they parted, tasting the salt of his skin and the musk of her juices mixed into the most delicious sweetness.

  Ash gasped as she straightened, leaning over to the nightstand to rifle through the drawer for the little suede flogger they both so liked. He fidgeted as he watched her, twisting his head to try to see what was coming. Vivienne didn’t want to give him time to think. She didn’t want to think either, didn’t want to do anything but lose herself in the experience she’d been waiting so long for.

  “Time for dessert, I think, don’t you?” she asked, shaking out the flogger’s delicate thongs against her fingers.

  Ash tugged impatiently at his ties and groaned.

  Chapter Ten

  He looked so good when he was waiting for her to touch him, but Vivienne had endured her fill of waiting for the night. She brought the flogger down across his ribs in two swift slaps, flushing his skin pink. Ash sucked a breath across his teeth, pulling his stomach in as he wriggled and tugged at the wrist cuffs, his hands clenched into fists. She smiled, trailing the soft suede tongues down his belly and then delicately over his blushing, hardening cock. He shuddered, his eyes closing again and his lips working fervently over a series of silent words.

  “What was it like, sweetie?” Vivienne asked almost playfully as she slapped the flogger against his inner thighs, making them jerk apart, the ropes attached to the ankle cuffs pulling taut with his every abrupt, reflexive jerk. “Waiting for me? Waiting for your dessert? Did you get hungry, hmm?”

  Ash’s head had lolled back, his throat an open, jagged curve as his body arched up, eager for the whip’s next kiss. He twisted, peering up at her with half-hooded eyes, his golden hair rumpled against the pillow.

  “Yes, Miss. Starved. I-I missed you. I was scared,” he admitted, wetting his lips nervously. “Scared I’d be found. Scared you’d get in trouble if I was.”

  Vivienne’s rhythm with the flogger almost faltered at that, but she bit her tongue and played the role he needed her to fulfill.

  “Scared, huh?” she asked, slapping the narrow suede tongues gently over his shins, waking his skin to her touch, warming and enlivening every inch of him after his long stretch of immobility. “What, little baby gets scared on his own?”

  Ash tilted his head back again, arching up to meet her strokes.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Never been…never been so alone in my life. Missed you. Needed… Ah! I could hear them. Hear you. I-I wanted to wait. Until you wanted me. Yours. All yours, Miss.”

  His voice grew softer, the words running together as she increased the pace of the flogger, teasing him into responsiveness. His cock strained for her attention and Vivienne fought the urge to give in to the demands of that prettily pouting head. Instead she landed another two quick, sharp slaps across Ash’s thighs, smiling as he writhed so dramatically.

  “You did well, sweetie,” she said, loving the angelic smile that spread across his face. “I’m proud of you.”

  He sighed, his cheeks stained pink and his eyes glazing over as she stroked the flogger up the center line of his chest. His body quivered in response, his cheeks creased around that beautiful, proud smile, and Vivienne ached at the sight of him.

  Mine.

&nbs
p; He was hers, and his desire to be hers—to please her, to take so much for her—gave her more than he could possibly imagine.

  Vivienne brought the flogger down hard across Ash’s nipples, catching at the clamps and the chain and making him gasp, making those pretty hazel eyes widen and water. He looked up at her, shocked by that sudden sharp jolt of intensity, and she dropped the flogger to the floor, kicking it aside with her foot. His lips moved soundlessly and for a moment she thought he might call yellow, but he said nothing and she loved him for it.

  She wanted to hurt him, if hurting him meant getting closer than she ever had before. He’d take it for her too—take the sting of her blows and the discomfort of the binds and the power his submission held would transmute it all to something so pure, so perfect.

  Vivienne barely realized she was panting lightly as she leaned over her boy, untying the cuffs from the bedframe. Ash’s arms dropped to the pillows and he flexed his fingers, craning up to get closer to her. She felt his breath on her neck and she smirked, turning her head to nip at his lips, catching his mouth against hers as she reached for his hands, rubbing the life back into his fingers.

  She moved away to unfasten his feet, also leaving the cuffs on his ankles—both as symbols of his restraint and just in case she wanted to tie him down again—then slapped his thigh lightly with the palm of her hand.

  “Get up, sweetie. I want you to sit on the edge of the bed for me, okay?”

  Ash sat up slowly, swinging his legs to the floor, his toes splayed as they touched the carpet. He still looked a little stiff but at least he wasn’t begging her for a bathroom break. Vivienne smiled and moved to take the clover clamps from his nipples. He drew in a sharp breath as she pulled them away, rubbing her hand across the hardened, rosy nubs.