Catriona's Golden Angel [Prometheus in Chains 6] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Clair de Lune

  Slowly and carefully she withdrew her fingers. She well knew that much damage could be caused by too swift and violent a withdrawal. She took off the glove and, having dealt with it and washed her hands carefully, she returned to the bed and slowly and carefully she released him. Slow release of the ties meant a pleasurable return of the blood flow. It could be a delicious form of foreplay. She wanted him to experience as much pleasure as she could. She rubbed his wrists and held him to her breast. She kissed his hair and his cheeks lovingly. She whispered words of comfort and love in his ears. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and held her to him.

  They decided on a light supper and a bath before bed. They fell asleep almost at once. She lay with her head on his shoulder, and his arms around her protectively. She nuzzled his neck as he tightened his hold on her.

  “I will never leave you, Mistress!” he said.

  “I will never let you go, my Angel!” she said.

  Chapter Six

  The next day was Saturday, and they had nothing to do all day but get to know each other and enjoy the experience. The gallery visit, and the meal before it were not until the evening, so there were plenty of hours for play. She looked down on her Angel. She had him tied in a combination takate-kote shinju, or a chest harness with hands bound behind his back. She had tied a two-column tie on each leg, calf-to-thigh with knees bent, and then anchored each two-column to the middle of the shinju part of the chest harness, so that his knees were drawn in to his chest and spread slightly apart. She’d no idea if he was going to struggle to keep his legs together, so she’d run a rope from the outside of each two-column to an attachment point on each side, and his legs were tethered apart and tied to “O” rings. She’d placed a pillow carefully under his upper back to minimize the pressure on his arms, and also made sure the wrist tie was a quick-release.

  She licked her lips. She ran her tongue so slowly over her bottom lip and saw his cock twitch.

  How would this go? she wondered. Most male subs in his position tried to hide their feelings and deny her what was her right, to see into their souls and read their desires. Would he be the same? He hadn’t done last night.

  She gazed at him in awe. What a beautiful specimen! Should she continue and do as all her instincts told her and arouse him until he begged for release?

  Yes. Best prolong it, they’d both enjoy it more, she thought.

  She reached for the dish she’d prepared earlier and selected a plump, ripe raspberry dipped in white chocolate. She ate it slowly and allowed some of the red juice to dribble out of the corner of her mouth. She flicked out her tongue and licked the corner of her mouth and watched his cock twitch.

  So he liked that, did he? she thought. She leaned forward and ran her tongue slowly over the huge purple head of his swollen, throbbing cock and saw his back arch. Learning what he liked, what got him hot, was going to be very satisfying. She selected a plump, ripe strawberry from the dish. It was dipped in rich milk chocolate. She sucked the tip into her mouth and bit off the end. She watched his cock twitch again.

  He wasn’t begging yet! But he would. Oh yes, he would! she thought. The trouble was that she wanted him so much. Was she going to be able to maintain her control in the face of her desire for him?

  Fuck it! I will! she thought. The sense of power, the feelings that provoked, and the pleasure it brought, never paled.

  “Want one?” she asked. He nodded.

  “No words, no reward!” she said, and he managed a rather strangled, “Yes please, Mistress!”

  “Yes please what, Angel?”

  She’d played this game before, and she’d won. She always won. He wanted her to win anyhow.

  “Please, Mistress, I’d like a raspberry.”

  She fed him one luscious fruit and held it just out of his reach. She tormented him with it, then allowed the tip if his tongue to make contact with the chocolate-covered tip of the fruit and, finally, pressed the whole fruit into his mouth. When he’d eaten it, she offered her fingers, and eagerly he cleaned them. He licked and sucked them longer than necessary, but she allowed it because the feeling curling deep in her belly and spreading through her body, as she savoured his hot mouth on her fingers, was making her even hotter and more aroused.

  She left the bed and saw his astounded gaze follow her. She’d told him she never left any sub alone when bound, and here she was leaving him.

  What thoughts would be going through his mind? She smiled at him as she said, “I’ll be right back, Angel.”

  She came back in a couple of minutes, carrying a bowl wrapped in a cloth. She placed the bowl on the bed near to his balls. She made sure the chocolate was not too hot, then she coated his balls in it and proceeded to lick it all off, as he arched his back and threshed, but the ropes held. She knew her stuff, and she was the best. He wasn’t getting out of that rope until she freed him. She’d checked. He was comfortable and safe. Now she asked him if he was having tingles or numbness.

  “No, Mistress. I’m fine!” he replied.

  They’d agreed he would use his safe word if he was at all uncomfortable, but she didn’t expect him to. She’d tied slowly as usual and taken care. As she tied the familiar patterns, she achieved the peaceful state she always reached when she was tying a beloved partner. Her hands knew what they had to do.

  She licked and sucked all the chocolate off his huge balls. When she came up for air and looked into his eyes, what she saw there stunned her. Naked desire she’d expected, it was her due after all. She’d spent years practising, taking instruction and perfecting her skills. She was one of the best.

  There was more in his gaze than desire alone.

  Could it be he felt that way, too? she asked herself. If he did, how did she feel about that? Best leave it now and deal with it later, she thought.

  She got back to the task of driving him demented with desire. Soon he began to beg, a little. She smiled. She’d known he would. They all did. Was he sincere?

  “Please, Mistress.”

  “I need words, Angel.”

  “Please, Mistress. I need to come. I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you. I need to bury my cock deep inside your pussy.”

  Sincerity rang in his voice, and she chuckled.

  “Good. That’s better. I get the idea!”

  She got up to remove the bowl.

  “Care for another strawberry?”

  “No, Mistress.”

  “Say ‘No thank you,’ Angel. You have such polished manners. This is neither the time nor the place to forget them,” she teased.

  “No thank you, Mistress Catriona!” he ground out.

  Catriona decided she’d had enough fun at his expense. She was hot and wet, and her breasts ached to be touched. She freed him from the rope. She always did this slowly, taking her time. She rubbed his wrists, then he was all over her. She found herself held tightly. He had both wrists captured in one large hand and pinned behind her back. She purred. She knew he’d be an aggressive lover once she pushed him far enough.

  “Now, Mistress Catriona, it’s my turn. Are you going to submit or shall I tie you up?” he asked.

  Her eyes flared at that.

  Was he a switch? Was he a rigger? Did she want to find out now? Hell no! she thought as she said, “I’ll submit!”

  He released her hands, gathered her into his arms and kissed her long and deeply. When he came up for air, she was trembling with desire. Then his hands were in her hair, holding her steady. He kissed her again, and, as his tongue invaded her mouth, there was no more thinking or planning. All she could do was feel as he pushed her back into the pillows. His strong fingers kneaded her breasts, flicked her nipples then pinched, pulled, rolled, and tweaked until her back arched and she moaned.

  “Please, Angel.”

  She heard him chuckle as his mouth replaced his fingers. He licked her slowly. His tongue rasped her aching nipples, and she begged again.

  “Please, Angel.”

  He suckled her ha
rd, and she moaned. It felt as if he were sucking all the substance out of her breast into his mouth.

  “Please, Angel.”

  “I need words, Mistress.”

  “Just bloody well fuck me now!” she managed to say.

  She heard the rip of the foil package and felt him roll it over his cock. She wondered if they made extra, extra large condoms. The force with which he entered her moved her whole body up the bed. He was so long and thick. He just kept on and on filling her, until he hit the neck of her womb, and she gasped. She wrapped her legs around his hips and clung on. Slowly he withdrew, then, forcefully, he rammed his cock back into her dripping pussy. She could hear the wet sounds her cunt made as it let him pull out. She loved to be fucked like that.

  How had he known? Could he read her so well? Had he done this before? Of course he had. Did it matter? Hell no! Just stop thinking and enjoy! she told herself.

  One of his hands found her clit and began to rub her there. He began softly, but soon increased the pressure, as he trapped her gaze and watched her reactions. She came in an explosion of pleasure that flowed along her extremities. The electric tingles went from her fingers and toes to her pussy and back again. Her blood sang in her veins, her back arched as she screamed his name. He kept up the pressure on her clit, and she came again. As the muscles of her channel rippled in the aftershocks, he began to pump his cock in and out of her hard and fast, taking care to connect with her G-spot and driving her wild again. Then, in an explosion of heat inside her, he came and collapsed on top of her.

  She loved the solid weight of him on top of her and the feeling of fullness his cock gave her. She didn’t want him to pull out of her. She felt his heart hammering in his chest. As he regained his breath, his heart slowed and he raised himself on his elbows and, framing her face with his hands, bent to kiss her lips tenderly. “Thank you, Mistress. That was amazing!” he said.

  She wound her arms about him and kissed him back. He lay down beside her, gathered her in his arms, and stroked her face, her hair, and her neck.

  “You have the softest skin, Mistress. Your hair is so thick and silky, and it smells so good!”

  Catriona was lapping it all up. She turned into his shoulder and cuddled into his embrace. Holding onto him for all she was worth, she was lost. He was the one, and things would never be the same again. Eventually she asked him, “What did your experience of Kinbaku feel like, my Angel?”

  “I felt safe. When I was bound, I felt as if you were hugging me close. I felt protected. It was comforting. I felt peace and release. I could struggle against the bondage and know that the ropes were well tied and I wouldn’t hurt you. I felt the boundaries were set and I could release my inhibitions by my struggles. I knew, if it all got too much, I only had to say my safe word and you’d release me.”

  “Will you want to do it again?” she asked.

  “Yes please, Mistress,” he said.

  “I’m not keen on suspension as it takes away from the closeness. If I’m concentrating part of my mind on the safety of the rig, I’m not experiencing so close a connection, but, if you wish to try it, I will organise that in the club. There are also many other things, even so far as mummification.”

  “No, Mistress, I’m content with what we have done tonight, or variations on that. I want the closeness, too. I’m not interested in suspension, and as for mummification, it scares me shitless!”

  She laughed heartily at that.

  “Well, that’s honest at least. I do lots of things for my clients which I prefer not to do in private play, so we will go on as we are, and if there is something you see me do to another that you’d like to try, you can tell me, okay?”

  Chapter Seven

  It was soon evening, and they were going to the gallery. Catriona gathered her hair in a French pleat. Her dress was a simple, dark green, but it clung in all the right places, and showed off her figure to perfection. She wore only a pendant and matching earrings in rainbow moonstones. Her heels were three inches and a lighter green patent leather, as was her evening bag. He wore his dinner jacket. It was not the conventional black, but a midnight blue, which set off his blond hair to perfection. His bow tie was also a midnight-blue silk one. His cuff links had diamond chips in them in his initial, “A.” In the hall mirror, as she ran a last check over her appearance, she noticed Angel looking over her shoulder. She thought he looked stunning, so beautiful. “Beautiful” was indeed the word, with his blond hair and good looks. He turned to her. “You look so beautiful, Mistress!” he said. He took her in his arms and kissed her, leaving her knees weak and her knickers soaked. She wished they didn’t have to go out. She wanted him inside her again and was going to have to wait until the evening was over.

  When they got to the restaurant where they were to dine before the pottery exhibition, Angel’s parents were waiting. His mother was very like him, Catriona thought, or should that have been the other way round? She noticed that Mr Webster’s hand was on his wife’s shoulder as he rose. His look was appraising, and she’d been around enough men to know that he was pleased, at least with her outward appearance.

  Angel held her chair until she was seated. There was an awkward pause. Angel and Mr Webster started talking at the same time, then they stopped and laughed. Mrs Webster was a faded blonde, of medium height, approaching fifty, and showing some slight signs of ageing. Catriona thought that she must have been a real beauty in her day, because she was still good looking. It wasn’t hard to see where Angel got his looks from. Mrs Webster radiated disapproval as Angel introduced Catriona.

  “Mother, this is Catriona Guthrie. Catriona, this is my mother.” She was cold and polite but distant.

  “Miss Guthrie,” his mother said, inclining her head slightly.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you. Please call me Catriona, Mrs Webster.”

  “This is my father.”

  Mr Webster shook hands with her. “Pleased to meet you, Catriona, my dear. That’s a lovely name, Scottish I assume?”

  “Yes, Mr Webster, I was born in Glasgow.” Catriona felt the cold gaze of Angel’s mother’s eyes. Catriona put up her chin, she wasn’t going to be intimidated. Catriona felt she was being weighed in the balance and found wanting. Her clothes were too ordinary, her hair too bright, and her Glasgow accent too pronounced. She’d lost the broad Glasgow accent, but had enough left to betray her origins.

  “Please call me Richard. I was in Glasgow, just last week. It’s a very lively city.”

  Catriona was grateful he at least was trying to put her at her ease. It was fortunate he’d not asked which part of Glasgow she was from, and wondered if they already knew.

  “Indeed it is. Do you go there often, Richard?”

  “No, just the occasional business trip. Have you lived in Sheffield long?”

  “About seven years.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I trained as an accountant.” Richard Webster was tall, graying and distinguished. His manners were impeccable, and every bit as polished as his son’s. He tried to counteract the icy waves of disapproval they all could feel flowing from his wife, but even his practised urbanity was not up to that task.

  She noticed the smile of derision on Mrs Webster’s face.

  “And do you still work as an accountant, Miss Guthrie?” she asked.

  “Yes and no, I am employed to look after the accounts for the club I work in.”

  “Shall we order now?” Catriona was grateful Richard had interrupted as she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep her temper if Angel’s mother criticised her choice of profession. They consulted the menus and chose their meal. She realised that his mother was watching her to see if she knew which knife and fork to use. She smiled to herself. Her teacher, Miss Jepherson, had seen to all that. Catriona had been a gauche little girl, but Miss Jepherson had seen her potential and done all she could to give her poise and polish. Mrs Webster was not going to be able to fault her table manners.

 
However, by the end of the meal, Catriona was feeling awkward, and a little gauche. She was glad when Angel stood.

  “I’m sorry but we have to go now. We’re going to Jinny’s pottery exhibition.”

  “How is dear Jinny? Do give her my love, such a delightful girl and so talented. She comes from such a decent family, too,” Mrs Webster positively gushed.

  “Oh, I haven’t seen much of her lately,” Angel replied.

  “That’s such a shame. I had high hopes for the two of you.”

  “Good-bye, Catriona. I hope to see you again soon.” Mr Webster took her hand, pressing it warmly.

  “Good-bye, Richard, Mrs Webster. It’s been a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for a delightful meal.”

  “Miss Guthrie.” Neither woman wished to meet the other ever again. Mr Webster pressed her hand once more and smiled encouragingly.

  They visited the gallery, and Catriona loved the pottery. Angel’s friend, Jinny, was a small, dark woman with her female partner in tow. They were obviously in love, and Catriona laughed at herself for the twinge of jealousy she had felt. Mrs Webster obviously didn’t know Jinny was gay. Catriona smiled as she thought of what Angel’s mother would make of that, good family or not. Angel behaved toward them both with his usual impeccable manners, but she noticed his eyes only lit up in that special way when he turned to look at her. The women were both delighted to meet Catriona, and she enjoyed looking at the exhibits. Some were in bright, jewel colours. Others had interesting, and very tactile, glazes. Angel bought her a vase she had liked, with a gold-and-green-flecked glaze. They declined a drink, and took a taxi home. In the taxi there was a silence, then both spoke at once.

  “I’m so sorry, Mistress.”

  “I’m sorry she does not like me.”

  They smiled, and he took her hand and raised it to her lips.

  “You were magnificent. Many women would have walked out or tried to put her in her place. She’s getting older and faded. Fading beauties don’t react well to youth, vigour, and such beauty as yours.”