Light Switch

by Lauren Gallagher

  He didn’t allow me to turn or lower my head. All I could do was look straight ahead, which meant staring at the front of his jeans. It took every bit of restraint I had not to reach up and trace the outline of his erection, but the hand in my hair warned me against doing so. Trying to keep myself calm, I looked at his abs instead, but the sparse line of dark hair below his navel drew my attention right back down.

  I expected him to order me to unbuckle his belt. Hoped he would. Prayed he would.

  He didn’t. Still holding my hair with one hand, he unbuckled his belt with the other. The clang of metal and the hiss of leather made my mouth water. As his belt slipped free of the loops on his jeans, I wondered if he intended to use it for anything tonight.

  If he had any intention of using it, though, it would be later on, because he dropped it on the floor with a muffled jingle-thud.

  “Don’t move.” He released my hair and stepped back to take off his jeans and boxers. My mouth watered and my heart pounded as he stripped down to nothing. The more I saw of him, the more I wanted him, especially now that I could see all of him.

  He wasn’t like one of those porn stars with a cock so big it looked like it would break me in half, but he wasn’t lacking at all. Big enough to make it hurt if he wanted it to, and my God, I hoped he wanted it to. Just the thought of having him inside me made my pussy tingle with anticipation. I was on my knees, at his mercy, and in that moment, there was nothing I wouldn’t have done if it meant he’d fuck me.

  He gripped my hair again, and with his other hand, stroked himself slowly, just inches from my face. I couldn’t help but lick my lips. Never in my life had I wanted so badly to taste a man’s cock.

  “Do you want to suck my cock, Kristen?” he asked.

  Yes. God, yes. Please, Sir. The slow motion of his hand—all the way to the base, up to the head, back down to the base—mesmerized me, kept speech at bay as I thought of the one and only thing my mouth wanted to do right then.

  The hand in my hair tightened. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Now tell me, do you want to suck my cock?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

  “If I gave you a choice,” he said, his voice low and his tone even, “would you rather have my cock in your mouth, or your pussy?”

  I closed my eyes as a tremor rippled up my spine. There was no doubt in my mind which option he’d decided upon. He had me on my knees and he was stroking himself inches from my mouth. The decision was made. He wasn’t asking for my choice, but my compliance. Fortunately, I was as eager to accept that option as the other.

  “My,” I paused, licking my lips as I fought to form the words. “My mouth, Sir.”

  He gave a quiet laugh. Then the hand in my hair pulled up, rendering moot his growled command of, “Stand up.”

  Confusion made my heart race the same way arousal made my knees shake. It had been the wrong answer. Somehow, some way, he’d expected me to answer differently. Or maybe there was no right answer. This was all part of the game, part of his plan.

  “I think I’d rather fuck you.” He picked up the condom and handed it to me. “Put it on.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus, yes.

  I managed to get the wrapper open without much trouble, but it came as no surprise that my hands were shaking almost too violently to maneuver the condom into place. Nerves, excitement, and the overwhelming reality that my hands were on Scott’s cock all conspired to reduce my manual dexterity to almost nothing. I’d have had less trouble if I’d been wearing oven mitts. After a moment of struggling and resisting the urge to curse at my own clumsiness, it was on. Finally.

  I dropped my hands to my sides and waited for his next command.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” I said quickly.

  He reached up and stroked my hair. “Good girl. Quick and truthful, exactly what I want.” Then he nodded toward the bed. “Pull the covers back and get on the bed.”

  I did as ordered. My heart pounded so hard, it wouldn’t have surprised me if Scott had heard it.

  Scott joined me in bed. He rolled onto his back and beckoned to me. “You’re going to be on top.”

  I blinked. “I’m—”

  “Now.”

  Puzzled, I obeyed. I moved on top of him, straddling him and sitting on my trembling knees. The nearness of his hard cock to my pussy made every nerve ending below my waist tingle. My pussy wasn’t touching him yet—he stopped me with a hand on my hip before I’d lowered myself completely—but we were so close, so damned close. The condom was on. It was only a matter of time.

  It occurred to me that Scott had been nothing if not a relentless tease since the beginning. I doubted it was below him to get us both this close, then back off and call it a night just to show me how controlled—and evil—he was.

  He squeezed my hip gently. “Lift up a little.” His other hand moved between us, and my heart jumped into my throat. Yes, yes, please, Sir.

  Without a word, he guided me down with one hand, and I took in a sharp breath when his cock touched my pussy. I expected him to keep drawing me down, or to thrust upward and fuck me, but he stopped me. With the hand on my hip, he kept me still. With the other, he slid the head of his cock back and forth between my pussy lips. No man had ever teased me this way, keeping himself this close but just out of my reach. They were usually in such a hurry to get in and get what they wanted, they never bothered. But Scott was in no hurry at all. And the more he did this, the more he kept his cock from me, the more restraint it took to keep from dropping my hips and forcing every last inch inside me.

  “Like that?” he asked.

  I murmured my automatic affirmative.

  “I’m going to give you more,” he said. “But you’ll take only as much as I allow. When you feel my hand, you’ll go no further. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He guided me down, and I gasped as the first inch or so of him slid into me. His other hand, holding his cock just below the head, stopped me. I rose at his command, then came down again when he allowed me to do so. Each time, he gave me a fraction of an inch more. Just enough to drive me out of my mind, but still not nearly enough. I wanted his entire cock inside me.

  I was so turned on I was shaking. The only resistance he met was my pussy accommodating the thickness of his cock; I was beyond wet enough to negate any concerns about friction.

  When I came down this time, he let me take more, and he was almost to my G-spot when his hand stopped me. I gritted my teeth with frustration, then released a relieved breath when he permitted me to come down again.

  The further I lowered myself, the slower I moved, anticipating his hand at any second. I moaned when he made contact with my G-spot, and that moan became a whimper as he slid deeper, as he let me have more. The earliest quivers of an orgasm were there, just beyond my reach, building with quiet intensity during the unending age it took for the head of his cock to move over and past my G-spot.

  His hand stopped me. When he nudged me to indicate I was to rise again, I obeyed without hesitation, biting my tongue to keep from begging him to let me have all of him, every last inch of him.

  He stopped me again when I’d risen enough that he was barely inside me, and there he made me stay. For a long, torturous moment, he kept me there. He’d let me have more, and now denied me. Holding my breath, I waited for that subtle curl of his fingers, that gentle pressure that gave me permission to take him inside me once again.

  “Another lesson for my submissive,” he whispered, his voice far too steady and even for a man in his position. “You may be on top. But don’t ever forget one thing…”

  All at once, he pulled me down and thrust upward, driving his cock all the way inside me. A cry escaped my lips as I fell forward onto my shaking arms.

  He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me down to him until our lips were a breath apart. “Don’t ever forget,”
he said, “that no matter what position, no matter what, I am in control.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I nearly choked on my own voice.

  He gave me a nudge to indicate I was to rise again. That simple, controlled movement was suddenly far more complicated than it had been all along. Trembling arms and legs barely responded to a mind that could think of nothing but Scott’s cock inside me.

  “Are you disobeying me?” he growled.

  “N-no, Sir,” I murmured. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to comply, rising slowly off his cock.

  As he let me back down, he said, “Do you want it fast or slow?”

  I gritted my teeth. Another trick question? Another right answer I couldn’t possibly guess? What do you want from me, Sir? Finally, I slurred, “Fast, Sir.”

  Scott clicked his tongue. “Slow it is, then.”

  You son of a bitch. Not that I could complain about how he felt sliding in and out of my pussy as I moved according to his commands, but I wanted to please him. I needed to please him. The only thing that superseded my need to fuck him until we both came was my desperation for his approval.

  He raised his hips to meet mine every time I came down, our agonizingly slow rhythm ensuring I felt every last inch of him. And still, as every stroke made my head spin a little more, he stayed in control. In absolute, unwavering control. Though his breathing was deeper and faster now, it was as even as the rhythmic rising and falling of his hips.

  Then he spoke again: “Do you want it fast or slow?”

  Fuck the games, I wanted to say. Fuck me as hard and fast as you can. Maybe reverse psychology would work this time.

  “Slow, Sir.”

  He chuckled. “I think I like it slow, too.”

  Bastard.

  We continued in this maddening, exasperating, infuriating slow motion.

  Just when my sanity was nearing a breaking point, as I had to fight the urge to take over and fuck the hell out of him regardless of the consequences, he asked a third time: “Do you want it fast or slow?”

  I resisted the temptation to release a sharp, frustrated breath. Whatever it was he was trying to get out of me, an attitude probably wasn’t it. God only knew what consequences that would bring.

  Keeping my aggravation out of my voice as best I could, I said, “However you want it, Sir.”

  He put his hand on the back of my neck and drew me down to him. “Good girl,” he murmured. Then he kissed me, and relief flooded my veins. When he broke the kiss, he whispered, “Turn around and get on your hands and knees.” He nodded past me. “Facing that way.”

  I did as I was told, and as soon as I’d turned around, Scott grabbed my hips and slammed into me, knocking a yelp and my breath out of me. My arms shook too much to hold me up, so I dropped to my elbows. He dug his fingers into my hips and fucked me exactly the way I wanted, so hard it bordered on violent, and my moans were lost in the bed’s creaking and protesting.

  All the while, Matt’s window was directly in my line of sight. The lights were off, and I couldn’t see any movement or shadows to give away his presence, but I knew he was there. I was sure of it. He was watching me from the cover of darkness, watching Scott fuck me.

  I threw my head back and moaned.

  “You’re not going to come, are you, Kristen?” He sounded so calm, so controlled.

  My voice was far less steady when I replied, “No, Sir.”

  “Good girl.” His violent thrusts and sharp breaths punctuated his speech. “Now touch yourself. Just like you did the other night.”

  With a trembling hand, I obeyed, circling my clit with two fingers.

  “Don’t come yet, Kristen.” He sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth, and his incredible rhythm didn’t relent at all as he continued to drive me toward my forbidden orgasm. “You know the rules. Don’t come yet.”

  I dug my teeth into my lower lip and slowed the circles on my clit.

  “I didn’t tell you to slow down,” he growled. “Do it right, or I’ll stop.” As if to emphasize his threat, he thrust into me and stopped. Then he pulled out slowly. “Do it right, Kristen.”

  Biting my lip so hard I was sure I’d draw blood, I obeyed. My pussy tightened around him, and he released a hiss of breath.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. He trailed light fingertips up and down my back. “I love the way your pussy feels when you do that.” The slightest tremor worked its way into his voice, and I bit my lip even harder, struggling to stay in control. I let my head fall forward, screwing my eyes shut as everything became too intense.

  “Please, let me come, Sir,” I moaned, clawing at the bedclothes with my free hand. “Please, please, let me come.”

  “Not yet.” But he fucked me harder.

  The need for release was almost painful, and not in the delicious, intoxicating way his hard thrusts were. I teetered right on the edge, at my breaking point, every tremor and ripple and cry waiting in suspended animation for him to give the word. It was one thing to have an orgasm out of my reach, just beyond my grasp. This was completely different. It was there, right there, right on the tip of my tongue and at the tingling, fraying ends of my nerves, and there it would stay until Scott was damned good and ready to let me have it.

  “Sir, please…” The near-sobbing sound of my own voice startled me, as did the hot tear that slid down my cheek. “Please, let—”

  “Come, Kristen.”

  I shattered.

  My mouth formed words that tasted like “Sir” and “thank you” and “please don’t stop”, but I heard none of it over the wave upon wave of pleasure crashing over me with every thrust and heartbeat. This was like no orgasm I’d ever experienced. It was pain. It was pleasure. It was how the hell does he do that and I couldn’t take any more and more, more, please, more.

  Before my climax had even subsided, Scott pulled out and threw me onto my back. I gasped when I hit the bed, and once more when he drove his cock into me again. He slid his hands under my shoulders and gripped them, using them for leverage as he fucked me so hard I saw white. It was rough and brutal and painful, and had I still been able to speak, I’d have begged him not to stop, never to stop, oh, God, please don’t stop.

  I buried my face against his neck, inhaling the musky mix of sweat and cologne. My second orgasm surged to the surface, and I fought to hold it back.

  “Let me come again,” I moaned. “Please, Sir, let me…let…” Obedience be damned, there was no stopping it.

  “Yes,” he whispered, and whatever he said after that was lost in my breathless cries. I couldn’t even hear myself, had no idea what the hell I said if anything at all, because the universe ceased to exist except as the pulses radiating from my pussy with every thrust, every breath, every heartbeat.

  Just as the intensity started to wane, Scott let his head fall beside mine and groaned. His fingers dug into my shoulders as shudder after shudder forced him just a little deeper inside me.

  Finally, he exhaled and relaxed.

  After a moment, he pushed himself up on his forearms and met my lips with a long, lazy kiss. “Good girl,” he whispered, caressing my face. “I know some of my commands aren’t easy to obey, but you’ve done well.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He smiled and kissed me again. Then he pulled out slowly and got up to get rid of the condom. When he came back, we faced each other on our sides.

  “You okay?” His voice was gentle. I exhaled. We were back on level ground now. Scott and Kristen, not Dom and sub.

  I nodded. “That was…” I tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. I didn’t think there was a word to describe it. The English language simply didn’t have what it took to accommodate what I felt just then. I’d had orgasms before, but those were Fourth of July fireworks compared to what he did to me. Others had given me firecrackers; Scott gave me a fucking supernova.

  “I hope you’re not looking for a way to describe how bad it was.” He grinned, that classic Scott Moore grin I’d k
nown for years. Framed by flushed, sweaty skin and disheveled hair, it looked cockier than ever, and my every twinge and tingle reminded me he’d more than earned the right to be such a cocky bastard.

  “Do I even have to glorify that with a response?” I laughed.

  He kissed me again. “Are you mouthing off to your master, young lady?”

  “Oh, fuck off.” I ran my fingers through his damp hair. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to have vanilla sex again.”

  Scott smiled. “Oh, you never know. There’s a time and a place for it.”

  “When? On the nights when you’re too sore for anything else?”

  He chuckled. “Well, there’s that. Or simply when the mood strikes.”

  We lay in silence for a while, his fingers absently lacing and unlacing between mine. He shifted so easily from an iron fist to a gentle hand, from commanding to tender. He was simply so…controlled. Even when he’d held me down and fucked me violently, even as he approached his own orgasm, he was always in control. Of me, of himself, of everything.

  “You’ve gone quiet again,” he said.

  “So did you.”

  “Okay, you’re right. But I get the feeling you’ve got something on your mind.”

  “Nothing in particular. Just thinking.”

  “About how much you want to hurt me for keeping you from coming for so long?”

  “Oh, that crossed my mind.”

  He grinned. “And to think, I only made you hold off for a few minutes. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  My eyes widened, and he laughed.

  “You know, I have to say,” I said, “when you said we’d be moving slowly, this isn’t what I expected.”

  He chuckled. “Well, what did you have in mind? Did you think I’d tie you down and beat you the very first night?”