by Jordan Marie
“My God,” I whisper before I can stop myself. So much for playing it cool. Until this moment, I thought I could play cool with the best of them. It’s the only way I’ve survived in my line of work; I’ve perfected it down to a science. All signs of being cool are gone now, blown completely to smithereens, and I can do nothing but stare at the massive cock between his legs. It’s at least ten inches, maybe longer, but that’s not what scares me. It’s wide. I don’t think there’s any way possible one of my hands could encircle it.
Roman laughs. “See something you like, pet?”
I lick my lips because they are so parched it feels as if I’ve not had anything to drink in months. Ever since the dance earlier today, I’ve been on edge. No. Let’s call a spade a spade. I’m horny. I have never been horny in my life. It’s another reason I can be so calm and cool. My life is chaos and there’s no time for personal needs. The few men I’ve been with have been pleasant, even good, but nothing I missed when I crawled in bed by myself at night.
“You’ll split me apart,” I tell him because apparently being horny means your filters are gone and you blurt things out without thinking.
Roman, for his part, throws his head back in the first show of full-fledged laughter that I’ve seen. Like this, he’s sexier. His body is relaxed and he doesn’t seem as distant or unreachable. Of course, it could be because with each movement of his body, his cock dances against him, tempting me even further.
“Not hardly, pet. But for now, that doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?” I ask, watching as a thin line of clear liquid runs from the dark head of his cock and along the shaft, painting one of the large veins that bulges against the skin. My tongue comes out, wanting to taste it, to bring it into my mouth and drink it.
“No, you’re not getting my cock right now.” Angels are probably crying in heaven. I can hear them and I join them with my protesting whimper. “Shh, pet. You will get it … in due time. When you’ve earned it. For now I have a different game in mind.”
When I’ve earned it? Everything in me protests, but I shut it down. Complete control.
“What game?” I ask, unable to move my eyes from his cock. It’s hypnotizing me, the way it’s moving back and forth, taunting me with its size.
“Do you know what one of my favorite things is, Ana?”
“What?” I ask, wondering how he expects me to carry on a coherent conversation like this.
“Watching a woman completely lost in her orgasm. Watching every moment as it comes crashing down on her and seeing the exact moment that she loses touch with reality and finally lets go.”
Those words bring my eyes back to him. Perhaps I should have done that sooner, because he has something in his hand. It’s glittery and purple and has these thin straps attached to it.
“What is that?”
“Something that will make you feel really good, sweet, sweet Ana,” he says softly, putting a knee on the bed. I watch as he attaches one of the straps around my waist. His hand moves down to caress my pussy. “I love that you are bare and so beautiful. Such a delicate pink. I’m going to take real good care of this pussy, pet.” He forgot the word “wet” because I’m definitely that, and at his words, I just get wetter. There’s no time to be embarrassed because Roman’s finger slides between the lips and strokes against my swollen clit. My hips jerk off the bed, my hands pulling against the restraint without success.
“Yes, please,” I moan as he glides over it again. My body feels as if it is on fire. I don’t think it will take much to set me off. I jerk though when I feel the cold silicone slide against my pussy and push up against my clit, stretching it into place. “What’s that?”
“This is called a butterfly, sweet Ana. Have you ever played with one before?”
I try to concentrate on his words and on the excitement I felt earlier and stop the panic inside of me. “What?” I gasp, but he stills my protest with a gentle kiss against my stomach. It’s tender and sweet and completely different from what is going on between us.
He leaves the bed and I notice a chair behind where he was standing before. I was so engrossed in him, I didn’t notice it earlier. I do now because he sits in it, naked as the day he was born, though obviously there’s a lot more to him now. He seems like this is just another day for him. Maybe it is. Right now, he appears to not have a care in the world, as if he doesn’t have me tied to the bed—
All thoughts end as I feel a soft vibration begin fluttering against my pussy. It’s soft, barely more than a ghost touch, a tease, just enough to get my attention. I swallow hard, my body heated and my breath short. The blood is thrumming through my veins and echoing so loud in my ears that I’m sure Roman can hear it. He shows no sign of it. He sits there in silence. In fact, the only sound in the room is my ragged breathing and the quiet hum of the vibrator. I can do nothing but watch him. Time has ceased to have meaning. I know it’s been awhile. Twenty minutes? Thirty? It could have been even more and nothing new happens. Except…
The small stimulation is starting to get to me. I can feel the changes in my body: the tightening in my breasts, the creamy wetness I can feel dripping from my pussy … it all slowly directs me to an edge I know I will eventually fall over. There’s nothing I can do to stop it—or to come. I would definitely take that choice. My hands pull against the bindings, but it doesn’t let me move. With each passing moment, my need increases. My body twists and turns, trying to find what it needs, but nothing I’m doing helps.
“Roman, please,” I whimper, needing more.
“Very good, pet. You just earned a reward.”
Reward? Why does he keep saying that?
My brain is hazy, the needs of my body and its demands taking over. I try to make sense out of what he is saying, but can’t. It becomes crystal clear however just a minute later. The vibrator shifts speeds and moves faster. Its pulsations rake through my body.
“Oh, God,” I whine. My body feels as if there’s a fire running through it, burning me from the inside out.
“No, pet. Roman, not God.”
His gravelly voice hits me and my insides flutter even more. He could own my soul with that voice. Not God? Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s the Devil himself, a beautiful lost angel sent down to destroy my soul.
“Beg me, pet. Ask me for what you want,” he continues.
I stretch my body, my back curving as I moan out his name. Feeling nothing but pleasure as the vibration hits exactly on my clit and around it all at the same time. It feels as if he’s delivering soft kisses over and over against the most sensitive part of me. I imagine it’s Roman’s tongue teasing my clit over and over. I squeeze my legs together as I feel my climax begin to build. I give in and give him exactly what he wants.
“Roman, please. More. I need more,” I tell him, my eyes connecting with his. I’m completely at his mercy. He’s watching everything I do. I see a trace of a smile on his lips. It’s beautiful, but it’s his hands that my vision is drawn to. He’s working his cock. His hand is sliding back and forth on his shaft. It’s glistening and slick with his pre-cum. He stands up, revealing his other hand, the one holding the remote. He flicks his thumb and instantly I feel the vibrations from the toy increase. My body bows in half as my legs come onto the mattress. I push my lower body up in the air, looking for more. Needing more of whatever I can find, but finding nothing. Visions of his cock thrusting inside of me, widening and stretching me and owning my body, instantly come to mind. I picture his cock pounding harder and harder deep inside of me. Just those thoughts are enough to bring me to my limit.
“Roman! I’m going to come!”
“Not yet, pet. You can’t come until I tell you to.”
I do my best to focus on him. He can’t be serious.
“Roman, I can’t.”
“Not until I tell you, pet. Your pleasure is mine,” he instructs.
“I can’t wait, Roman. I have to…”
I break off my words when he turns the vib
rator off completely. I cry out in frustration. The disappointment is so severe that tears sting my eyes. I want to curse him, to scream and throw things. But then I can’t. He asked for this. Complete control.
“Please, Roman. Make me come,” I beg him. “Please,” I add, so there can be no doubt how desperate I am, or that I doubt he is in charge.
That seems to satisfy him because he turns the vibrator back on. I moan and literally weep in relief. Instantly the orgasm starts building again. I tap down my desire. I don’t want to make Roman unhappy again. I need everything he is giving me.
“Can I come, Roman? Please? It’s… I’m so close. I need to come.” I’m not sure what I’m telling him at this point. I just know I’m begging and needing his approval. I didn’t even realize my eyes were closed until I feel his hand on my stomach. I look at him as he flips the switch on the remote again. My breath stalls, wondering exactly what will happen. The speed is the same, though the vibrations are deeper. There’s a pulsing beat added into the mix now. I feel heat flush through my body. I know I’m gone now. There’s no way I can hold back any longer. “Roman,” I plead.
“Come, pet. Come for me,” he tells me.
I detonate as my climax rockets through me, crashing down on me in wave after heavy wave. I ride it out, my body on an overload of pleasure, and the source is all coming from Roman. Just when I’m about to calm down, he must hit another button on the control. I can’t even describe what it does. It feels as if a hundred and one fingers are manipulating my clit at once. I go over the edge again, screaming Roman’s name. His large hand rubs against my stomach, caressing me. My eyes search him out again. He’s out of focus because I think most of my body is floating somewhere in another universe, but I see him. He’s stroking his cock. Streams of pre-cum drip off of his shaft, covering his hand and then dripping down onto my skin. I moan as aftershocks of my latest orgasm shake my body. That’s when I feel the first heated splash of his cum coat my stomach as he comes with me. On me.
“Something wrong, pet?” I ask Ana as we sit at the table.
After our first little playtime, we showered together. I washed her hair and her body, making sure to get her pussy off with my fingers. I wanted to fuck her right there, but part of the fun in breaking in a new toy is taking your time and enjoying the slow ride until they wonder if you will ever give them what they really want. Ana is a bit different, though. I’m having to fight myself to hold back, and that’s never happened before. How many times has this woman surprised me? I’m losing count. I’ve never had that in my life. I’ve always known how people will react. It’s what has made me successful over the years.
This woman surprises me every time I turn around.
“I could probably eat better in my own chair,” she says, a fine pink tint spreading on her face. How she can blush after the way she just came, is yet another surprise. She doesn’t hide her reactions to me. She doesn’t have a mercenary bone in her body that I can find. It’s refreshing.
She’s in my lap, and we’re sitting at the dining room table waiting while my cook heats up the spaghetti and bolognaise sauce. I put a white silk robe on her and brushed her hair and she looks even younger than she did before. If I hadn’t read her file I’d have to ask her if she was legal. She sure as hell doesn’t look twenty-seven.
“There’s no need. I’m going to feed you.”
“You’re going to feed me?” she asks, her face registering her shock.
“Complete control tonight. Remember?”
She still feels tense in my hands, but she relaxes a little more. Mayra, my maid, brings water, a plate of food, and a basket of bread.
“Thank you,” Ana says, but Mayra doesn’t acknowledge her, which makes the blush on Ana’s face darken. I may have to have a talk with my staff. I immediately dismiss the idea. I will be putting Ana up in her own apartment. The point is moot.
I wrap some of the spaghetti around my fork and bring it to her mouth. She opens, sucking the noodles inside her mouth. “That’s good,” she says.
“My chef is good. I demand the best from the people around me,” I tell her, feeding her again.
“I’m picking up on that. What happens when something is beyond your control?” she asks, her hand coming up to catch some of the sauce which has been caught on her lip.
“That rarely happens. I told you I like—”
“Complete control. Yeah, I kind of got that from what happened in the bedroom and shower.”
I pull her hand to my mouth and suck off the remnants of the sauce she has there, letting my tongue glide around her finger before releasing it.
“Exactly.”
“Am I going to be calling you Daddy before the night is over?” she asks, reaching over and pulling out some of the noodles with her fingers. Her head goes back to let the noodles slink into her opened mouth. My cock pushes up against her ass. I should reprimand her for feeding herself, but since it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen and my eyes are still glued to the way she’s sucking the red meat sauce off her fingers, I don’t.
“Some have. Others, no. That is completely your choice, as long as you give me what I want,” I reply, watching her feed herself again.
This time she stops before swallowing the spaghetti down to look at me. “Then no thank you. I had one Daddy. He wasn’t that great. And please, can we not refer to your other pets? I don’t want to lose my appetite.”
“Jealous?”
“Just trying to forget the fact that I’m just one in a succession of women for you.”
I let that remark slide because she’s not wrong, even if discussing this with her feels wrong.
“Tell me about your daddy.”
“I’d rather not. That’s another subject that will make me lose my appetite.”
“Is that so?” I ask her, suddenly envious of spaghetti.
She sucking more of them down her mouth and, at my words, she stops when the last of them disappear into her mouth. I grab the noodles this time, holding them over her lips. I hold them a little high so I can watch while her delicate neck stretches up. She sucks them into her mouth slowly, her eyes on me the entire time. She’s deliberately trying to turn me on, even while she’s blushing wildly. The combination is sexy as hell.
“Not like you. I mean, I was talking like a father, but he doesn’t really qualify for that either. He gives the term ‘dead-beat-dad’ a new meaning.”
“I see. And your mother?” I ask her, already knowing the answer but enjoying the way she’s opening up so frankly to me. No games. No hidden meanings. Ana doesn’t do mysterious or coy and I like it. She’s also not trying to buy me with sympathy. Too many women have tried to make me their meal ticket by giving me sob stories. It never seemed to matter that I didn’t really care what their stories were. Ana might be different in that respect too—yet another surprise.
“She split before my father did. Though she did make appearances here and there, mostly when she needed money. I won the lottery in the parental department,” she says, reaching around for the bread. She grabs a piece, but before she can do anything with it, I take it away. She starts to protest, but I pinch a corner off of it and pop it into her waiting mouth, letting my finger slide over her bottom lip, the butter from the bread makes the touch on her lips smooth.
“Who raised you?”
“My father didn’t go MIA until I was sixteen.” She shrugs, leaving me to fill in the blanks. Which I do.
“Was it just you and your brother?” I prod, wondering exactly what she will say.
“Yeah. Drink, please?” she asks this time, instead of getting it herself. I get the water and guide it to her lips. She scrunches up her face but takes a drink.
“I’m not really a water drinker,” she says.
“It’s good for you.”
“So’s spinach. I find I don’t like it, either,” she says, her nose curling.
“But water is very useful.” I put the glass down on the table.
&n
bsp; “To grow spinach?”
“To make you wet,” I tell her, shifting her body so that she has a leg on either side of me now and her back is against the table.
“I know of other things that do that,” she whispers, biting on the corner of her mouth again, which I’ve come to realize is a nervous gesture of hers.
I reach into the glass with one hand capturing a piece of the ice. I flick the sash to her robe loose, revealing one of her breasts. I put the cube into my mouth sucking it in and then letting the tip out. I lower my lips to her, letting the ice hover there. She sucks the tip, her eyes open.
“Roman,” she whispers brokenly, her voice laced with hunger. I lean down so I can rake the ice down her chin, following an imaginary line down her beautiful neck. An immense feeling of satisfaction comes over me when I see the trail of wetness I leave in my wake. Her head is back, allowing me access, and after a couple of passes down her neck, I move to her breast. I circle the outside. Ana really has gorgeous breasts. They’re big, but not obscenely so. I can cover them with my hand and they are full, soft, and pliable. Perfect, really. I move the ice around her areola. Her nipple, which was already hard, is pebbled so tightly it looks painful. The ice is almost gone, so I move to her other nipple, letting the icy water drip down. It’s stunning to watch the way the water drips and runs around the nipple and then along the fine ridges that have been made on her areola because of her excitement. I watch until I can’t anymore, and then I take the nipple in my mouth, my tongue swirling the last remnants of the ice around, and I suck it so hard it may bruise. A combination of the cold and my mouth makes Ana cry out. Her hands go to my head and she tries to drag me into her. When I finish, I pull away to look at the stormy violet depths staring back at me. They’re full of hunger and need.