“You said you used to fantasize about me though, didn’t you? Even before the club?”
I blush.
“I did. They were relatively simple fantasies, though.”
“Want to tell me about them?”
“Oh, nothing that will surprise you, I’m sure … Giving you a blowjob in your office before you bend me over your desk and fuck me, that kind of thing. Being fucked by you in the classroom after class.”
He raises an eyebrow playfully, even as his eyes darken with a hunger I know so well. “I’m sure that could be arranged … So tell me, this whole bondage, dom/sub thing, this only came later?”
“It was only afterwards … when I was trying to seduce you on your couch, and you grabbed me by the wrist and told me to be careful what I asked for, because you had very specific tastes. I - I got really wet, and, well you know what happened after that.”
“Yes, I do,” he says softly, still staring into my eyes, this time with a very pronounced gleam in his own, before he wipes his mouth with his napkin, then takes my hand and kisses it.
Without his gaze to hold my own, I look up briefly, and it’s in that moment that I see the creep in the distance. He appears to have just come up from downstairs, presumably from the bathroom, but he’s looking at us, and while I avert my gaze immediately, I can feel the color drain from my cheeks.
Sebastian, always so exquisitely aware of my every reaction (perhaps I unwittingly squeezed his hand a bit tighter?), looks up at me, and as our eyes meet, a look of comprehension crosses his face.
“Kiss me,” he says.
His voice is low, and yet there’s something urgent, peremptory about it, as though it were an order.
I obey, sliding my arms around his neck and kissing him, before he takes over, his mouth covering mine in that dominant, almost imperious way that never fails to make me melt and close my eyes and yield to his embrace, leaving its duration and intensity entirely to his discretion.
As we make out, I feel his hand wander up to my right breast and cup it - quite firmly, to the point that one of the straps of my dress falls off the side of my shoulder.
I’m faintly aware that that’s the side facing out, so that anyone who happens to be looking in our direction would see him feeling me up.
“That bastard needs to understand that you belong to me,” he growls in my ear when we finally take a break for air, and readjusts my shoulder strap.
It’s funny, I understand he’s probably alluding to his earlier comment about the creep, but there’s also something about his voice that suggests that our quick interlude may somehow have re-activated his dom mode.
It’s certainly re-activated my sub mode, whether he intended to or not - perhaps it was the way he took my mouth and felt me up, just like that, not caring about where we were, or if anyone else besides the creep might see us.
Or perhaps it was the idea that I belonged to him …
He seems to notice my renewed excitement - it’s probably the way I’m staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless - because his smile takes on a lustful edge.
“Sex is such a good antidote for fear, isn’t it?” he murmurs, a familiar glint in his eye. “Let’s not linger too long over dessert. I think you’ll feel a lot better when you’re in my bed, with your legs spread wide, getting railed just the way you like it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“By the way, Paige, I bought a few things for you - for us,” he says, eyeing me seductively as he unlocks the door of his house.
It’s quite extraordinary how quickly he’s managed to get me in the mood again, so soon after that unnerving encounter, but he has such a way with him when it comes to these things that I was probably already lost once he started talking dirty to me after that kiss.
By the time the crème brûlée arrived he’d pushed my dress up and was running his fingers over my satin-covered nub while he stared into my eyes with an expression somewhere between lust and amusement at the way I was attempting to hold back my whimpers of pleasure.
Of course, the result of all that was that we got through the crème brûlée really quickly, just as he’d suggested earlier, at which point he promptly settled the bill and whisked me off …
“A few things?” I ask flirtatiously. “Care to elaborate?”
He smiles and cradles my cheek with his hand.
“No, I won’t elaborate - you’ll find out soon enough.”
Once he’s shut the door and locked it, he helps me off with my coat, taking the opportunity to bend down and brush the back of my neck with his lips, his breath hot on my skin.
But it’s not till he returns from having put away our coats that he draws me in for a kiss.
Afterwards he hands me a large envelope.
“Thing number one,” he murmurs meaningfully. “You look ravishing in your dress but I’d like to see you in something a bit naughtier when you come upstairs.”
“Ooh, lingerie?”
“Clever girl.”
“What are you going to do with me today?”
He flashes a wolfish grin at me.
“As I said, you’ll find out soon enough. Just know that rules of engagement from last week apply - I’m your Sir once you step into my room. All I’ll say is that I’ll be upping the ante this time, so have your safeword ready and all that. See you when you’re ready.”
He kisses me again, winks, and then practically bounds up the stairs.
About ten minutes later I’m making my way upstairs, having freshened up and re-applied my lipstick, this time with a darker, more inviting red that I didn’t quite have the nerve to wear to the restaurant.
As instructed, I’m wearing the contents of the envelope, a pair of beautiful seamed fishnet thigh-highs and a black mesh G-string. My dress lies abandoned on the couch along with my wet satin panties - apart from my stilettos, I’m not wearing anything except what he gave me.
I can’t help but shudder with anticipation as I hear my heels click on the hardwood floor as I approach his room, especially when I glimpse myself in a large mirror on my way there.
Of course this isn’t the first time I’ve ever worn fishnets and a G-string, but I look somehow different this time. Perhaps it’s the elegance of the design (they’re from a high-end label and probably cost the equivalent of two weeks of groceries for me), perhaps it’s the new shade of lipstick, more sultry seductress than ingénue (my usual look).
Or maybe it’s my excitement that’s making the difference - my eyes are wide and shining, my cheeks are flushed, my lips a bit puffier than usual …
He’s left his door ajar again, like last time, and I knock on it again, half-expecting him to do what he did last week and pull me into the room and ravage me.
But, being full of surprises, he doesn’t.
Instead, he throws the door further open and looks me up and down lasciviously before tilting my head up and kissing me, this time lightly and yet so suggestively that I feel my skin tingle as his lips touch mine.
“Hello, beautiful girl. Now get in bed, I want you on all fours. Because it’s time for your other presents.”
“Yes, Sir,” I murmur, and comply.
As I’m getting into bed, he undresses, and shoots me a knowing grin when he sees me looking at him after I’ve gotten into position - probably because he’s noticed my gaze shifting to his magnificent cock, already fully erect.
“All in good time, baby girl,” he says, smirking in the sexily impertinent way he always does when I check him out.
Because I can’t help staring at him as he walks over to the bed, watching the rippling of his muscles and the bounce of his majestic shaft as he does.
Before he gets on the bed, though, he opens the nightstand drawer and pulls out a black velvet blindfold.
“Present number two,” he murmurs as he bends to kiss me, then slips the blindfold on.
Everything’s now black in front of me, and while I miss the eye contact, there’s something strangely exciting abo
ut this - because I’m not just completely in his control but also unable to guess, let alone predict what he’s going to do next.
All I can feel is the heat emanating off his body … at least until he runs a hand down my side. His touch is light, just skimming my haunches before it drifts off, so that it comes as a bit of a shock when he follows up with a couple of hard smacks on my butt.
I cry out, and he responds by caressing the spot that’s sore from being spanked.
“My pretty pet,” he says. “I wish you could see how beautiful you are when you’re on your knees like this, all open for my delectation, your sweet pussy dripping, your ass red from being smacked.”
I feel his hand glide down to my opening and his fingers easing their way in, penetrating me for the first time today, making me moan.
“So wet, Paige. So wet. I love that you’re so horny. You probably want to be fucked now, don’t you? … But you’re going to have to wait, because it’s time for present number three.”
He withdraws his fingers from me and thrusts them in my mouth - they’re dripping wet, slippery, sticky, slightly salty.
“Taste yourself, baby,” he whispers. “Taste how horny you are, my beautiful, dirty girl. I want to see you suck on my fingers like it’s my cock, and when you’ve cleaned them up properly, I’ll go get your next present.”
I obey, and after I’ve licked and sucked all my juices off his fingers, I hear him say “Good girl” and feel him get up from the bed.
It’s not long before he returns.
This time, as he climbs into bed, I feel him stroke my haunches again, before I feel a hand trail down one leg till he’s holding my ankle.
Then the unexpected sensation of leather, as he eases what appears to be a cuff around it.
For a moment I think he’s going to cuff my ankles together, and so, after he buckles me into the first cuff, I move my other leg closer.
“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “Remember what I said about never closing your legs to me when you’re in this bed? That applies today as well.”
“Oh,” I breathe, and part my legs again.
As if in reward he draws his hand between my legs, letting his fingers graze my wet opening briefly before turning his attention to my other ankle.
When it’s similarly ensconced in its leather restraint, I hear something metallic before my legs are pushed further apart - this time not by him, but by something connected to my leg cuffs, probably a spreader bar.
“That should keep you wide open and accessible, baby girl,” I hear him say. “Tell me, how does that make you feel?”
I blush as I feel my core clench and my juices slide out of me and down my inner thigh.
“Ready to be used by you, Sir, like the good little slut I always am for you,” I purr, hoping to goad him into taking me right then.
But he doesn’t take the bait - today he seems determined to tease me, make me wait.
“Just one more present, baby,” he says, as he coaxes my head down sideways onto what seem like a couple of pillows, which he must have stacked in place in the meantime.
A sigh escapes me as I let my cheek rest against the cool, soft linen of the pillowcases, and he strokes my face, running his finger between my slightly parted lips.
“So beautiful,” I hear him say, possibly half to himself.
And then, more clearly addressing me: “I want your hands behind your back.”
I obey.
He takes my wrists, which feel almost fragile in his strong hands, and before I know it they’re cuffed together behind me, so that I’m here, all trussed up and helpless and spread for his pleasure.
I feel his weight shift - he’s clearly moved behind me, and soon I feel what I’ve been anticipating with trembling excitement since this whole thing began, the sensation of his head between my cleft, exploring it, as though to prepare me for its onslaught.
Because he’s so thick and long, it always feels tight initially, even if I’m dripping wet as I am now, even if he’s slipped a finger or two into me prior to entering me proper …
“Tell me, my beautiful pet, you want this, don’t you?” he asks, teasing me by pushing just the tip of his shaft into me before withdrawing it.
“Oh yes,” I whimper. “Yes, please fuck me, Sir. I need you inside me, I need your big cock inside me.”
“Good,” he growls. “Because you’re going to be fucked. Hard.”
He’s as good as his word, because once he eases his prodigious length inside me, so that he’s filling me up completely, his thrusting soon builds up speed, to the point where all I can register is the sensation of him driving mercilessly in and out of me, sending tremors of pleasure through my limbs, making me cry out with each jolt to my core.
I’ve waited so long to be breached yet again by him that it doesn’t take long for me to come, hard, so hard that I bite into the pillow to keep myself from screaming even louder as my insides contract around him.
He waits for my last spasm before pulling out, and I sigh at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
I hear him laugh.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not done with your sweet pussy yet, but I think it’s time to feed my pet her own juices again, remind her what a lovely shameless little thing she is …”
I feel him move in front of me, feel his hand lift my head from the pillows.
Instinctively I open my mouth for him and he pushes himself in, taking a bit of time at first so that I get to savor my taste on his thick, veiny column, before he orders me to suck him.
He holds my head up as I do, the tenderness of the gesture contrasting with the raunchiness of his instruction.
I comply with great fervor - I can’t see him, and so I really want to hear him, hear his breath grow ragged, hear him groan, know that, with any luck, I’m giving him as much pleasure as he’s just given me …
All of which he does, although after I bring him to the edge a couple of times, he pulls out from my mouth and frees me from all the cuffs before deftly flipping me over, so that I’m lying on my back as my limbs recover from the strain.
He gets in between my legs and pulls off my blindfold. I blink, having to get used to the light again, and see him smiling at me, his eyes soft and sparkly, looking ever so boyish and happy as he guides himself into my slippery canal again.
“Oh, Sebastian,” I murmur, sliding my arms around his neck.
He begins thrusting into me, staring into my eyes when he’s not showering kisses on me, on my lips, my neck, my breasts.
It’s so exciting just to see him again, to be looked at by those beautiful, ardent eyes, to feel his manly, muscular body on top of me …
Soon my moans grow more heated as I clutch at his back, which makes him smile and drive harder into me.
God, he’s so handsome when he smiles, I can feel my eyes grow wide every time I look at him, as if trying to take as much of him in as possible …
Finally I come again, with a cry that he stifles with his mouth as he fills me up with his seed …
“Well, I hope that made you feel a bit better,” he says playfully as we lie, spent, in each other’s arms.
“Oh, Sebastian. You’re wonderful, I don’t know how you do it.”
He smiles and kisses the top of my head.
“You’re very inspiring, darling girl. I’m very lucky, you know. Not just because you are the sexiest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, but also because you trust me enough to let me do all that I did to you … Which in itself is a beautiful thing.”
“How could I not trust you,” I murmur, as I snuggle up in his embrace.
And it’s true. He makes me feel so safe, so protected when I’m with him - which is definitely not something I’ve been used to feeling at all.
“I’m glad to hear that, Paige,” he says, his voice velvet, caressing, insinuating again. “Because I’ve got a lot more planned for this weekend …”
CHAPTER THIRTY
It’s getting easier being in
class with Sebastian these days, now that we have a bit of a routine established, which allows us to be discreet without any misunderstandings occurring on either side.
The only difficulty, really, is not smiling too much when I see him pacing up and down the front of the class as he speaks, when I look at his handsome, sculpted profile, strong jaw and manly figure, and know that it won’t be long before I’ll get to throw myself in his arms again … and not brightening up too obviously when he steals a tender glance at me, which is actually pretty often.
Well, that and focusing on what he’s saying instead of checking him out and falling into an erotic daydream about all the things I’d like him to do to me, or for that matter all the things we’ve been doing with each other …
Our relationship’s never been more secret, but oddly enough I’ve never felt more secure. Sometimes, when I’m alone, I tell myself that I shouldn’t set too much stock on this, that it’s all too good to be true, that this can’t possibly have any long-term potential.
And yet, every time we’re together, he’s so sweet, so affectionate. He doesn’t behave at all in the way that I’ve come to expect over the years, given the horror stories I’ve heard from friends - guys not calling the day after, flaking out, being mean, flirting with other girls, constantly “needing space” when things get too intimate.
It’s funny how he’s supposed to be so wrong for me, being my teacher and an “older man” with a taste for sex that might seem unconventional and scandalous and degrading - perhaps even to some of these flaky guys.
And yet he’s the kindest, most gallant man I’ve ever met, when he’s not dominating me in bed - although even then he has an extraordinary talent for making me feel both utterly used and yet also strangely taken care of.
It’s almost too perfect to last, I can’t help thinking, but surely I can sometimes allow myself the pleasure of hope? …
It’s after class, and unusually for him he has to have a brief meeting with the chair of the department immediately after, so he’s arranged for me to meet him in the lobby in half an hour, so we can steal away for lunch, with perhaps a quickie before or after.
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