Ethan must have sensed when she totally relaxed and accepted the dildo because he began to give it to her hard and fast. Inevitably, the cock melted faster than Morgan wanted. The next thing she knew, Ethan tossed it aside, sat down on his barstool and camped out between her legs.
At some point, he must have removed the clitoris-clamp, but the spreader remained. She was still so open and suddenly feeling empty again. Ethan filled her up with his hot, slick tongue.
The clamps parting her vaginal lips bit a little more, yet Morgan loved the feel of Ethan’s tongue spearing into her body, licking her out, eating up her natural juices and warming her from the inside out.
Finally, he lifted his head and honed in on her pulsing, neglected clit. With a slowness that melted her heart, he tongued her nubbin, suckling so sweetly that Morgan was catapulted into a climax, sweeping her away on a rush of intense release.
“Oh god,” she whispered when she realized what she’d done. “I came without permission.”
Ethan drew back. “You did. I’ll forgive you, once.”
“Thank you.”
“If you tell me who owns your pussy and orgasms.”
“You do, Master.” There was no other man for Morgan.
“That’s my sub, so sweet and agreeable.”
“Not always.”
“Look at the fun we get into as a result,” he said.
She couldn’t argue with his logic. “Master? When will you fuck me?”
“I have been fucking you, sub.”
“With your cock,” she added.
“I did, albeit a frozen version.”
“Say that again, please.”
“The cherry creamsicle was made in a mold I’d designed of my dick. That’s how I know exactly how long and thick it is.”
“You did measure your penis!”
“Yes, to make toys and treats such as this that I hope you’ll be able to use when you want to get yourself off. Better yet, now we know that toys used by me or made by me aren’t affected by psychometry.”
“Is this what you’ve been doing with your free time over the last seven months?”
Ethan laughed. “Yeah, and a whole lot of masturbating.”
“How long before we met did you have a girlfriend?”
“Couple months. It doesn’t matter, honey. Whatever relationships I had before you ended the first time I walked into your shop. I knew then and there that I had to have the woman hiding behind her hair.”
“I don’t hide anymore.”
“There’s no reason you should hide. You’re beautiful and you’re mine.”
“I can’t promise not to be shy with others, Ethan.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be with you. Look how open and sweet you are with your friends. Look at what you did at Ryan and Alex’s apartment today.”
Morgan blushed hotly. “No. Look at what we did together. I could never have stayed if you weren’t with me.”
“Good to know,” he replied.
“Can I get off the table now?”
There was silence, then a maddening, wicked laugh. “Not yet, sub. Your Master is not done pleasuring you.”
“What about discipline?”
“That too,” he answered. Oh dear, now what?
Through it all, Morgan managed to hold the stress ball. She’d squeezed it a time or two, but didn’t feel panicked. It was a relief to know she could slow or stop Ethan simply by dropping the ball.
Squeezing it once more, she waited for Ethan to remount the table. She loved looking up at him, knowing he was free to pleasure her. Being bound gave her a sense of freedom she’d never expected.
In his position, he looked handsome, strong and heroic. With her head still spinning from post-orgasmic bliss and the thrilling constant current of desire radiating beneath her skin, Morgan came back to reality when she noticed Ethan was working his cock to full-mast.
Focusing on the thick, veined length, she drooled. She wanted it so damn bad. Rather than give to her, he teased her more by wanking himself until he placed a flexible ring at the base of his shaft, a cock ring.
She’d have asked why since Ethan was wonderfully erect, but he proved how aware of her thoughts he was by saying, “I don’t want to come too quickly next time. This’ll help.”
“You didn’t have to explain anything.”
“I could see you watching my cock. You want it, don’t you, beautiful?”
“You know I do.”
Ethan grinned, arching his brow. “I think you’re going to like this part.”
“I like it all.”
“Sweet,” he said, maneuvering himself down the table.
From somewhere she couldn’t see, he unbuckled the belt around her abdomen, then produced a small pillow to prop up her butt.
“Can you move?” he asked.
Morgan lifted her hips. “Yes, Master.”
With that, he lay over her, letting her absorb his strength and body heat. His erection slid over her skin, her bonds, slipping downward in slow methodical inches. The metal cuffs and chains were warmed now, but she feared he’d do damage to himself if he humped the thick metal links.
When he remained unharmed, she was certain Ethan would take her soon. His cock head was there, right between the handcuff framing her entrance. Except he halted, holding his breath, tossing his head.
“Holy hell, Morgan, your pussy is so fucking hot! It’s all I can do not to fuck you.”
“Fuck me, fuck me,” she cried out, desperate for him.
With gentleness she didn’t expect, he entered her. As he penetrated, she became aware that the pinch of clamps was gone. “You took the spreader off.”
“Um-hmm, the handcuff is enough,” he said, not bothering to explain why or how he’d done that without her knowing.
Her only guess was that he’d removed the spreader after he’d fucked her with the condom-covered creamsicle. It really ceased to matter. All she cared about was the fact that Ethan’s cock was now buried in her pussy!
“Oh thank you, Master, thank you,” she murmured, deliriously happy to be fucked.
Ethan leaned backward, his cock in place as he reached over and released the cuffs at her ankles one at a time. Penetrating even deeper, he began powering into her, thrusting so darned hard that Morgan tried in vain to thrust back and keep up.
“Just take it, honey. Take my cock and wait for it,” he told her.
“For what?”
She didn’t expect an answer this time. He showed her by fucking her anew. Way better than a cocksicle, his penis felt incredibly hard and much bigger than ever due to the cock ring controlling when he’d let himself come.
Ethan paused in mid-thrust, holding himself as deep as he could. He grabbed something he must have placed on the table when Morgan wasn’t looking. Another match struck.
“Jeez, are you going to…” Morgan couldn’t finish.
Her Master’s gaze was intent upon the white four-inch-long candle he held in one hand as he lit the wick. He reared back and stayed very still, becoming a masked bandit. His cloak was safely out of the way of the flame.
His chest gleamed with the sheen of sweat and honed muscle flexed and trembled, taunting her to rise up and lick him clean. Sadly, she couldn’t due to her handcuffs. Whoa, he looked incredibly dominant and masterful.
The flame from the candle flickered, yet she didn’t notice a particular scent from the rather ordinary-looking candle. The candelabrum was still giving off delicious spicy aromas, the smell of cinnamon and sex was seductive.
Ethan shocked her with what he did next. Dammit, he pulled out of her pussy, laying his bare, feminine cum-slickened cock upon her mons. Watching him blow out the match, she held her breath while he waited until the wisp of smoke vanished before dropping it on the table a safe distance away.
He dipped the candle, letting wax drip right onto his arm the way a mom tested heated baby formula, let out a breath and dripped wax on his cock.
“Ethan, it’
ll burn!”
“It’s okay, honey, it feels damn good. Paraffin candles are not too hot, not too cool, they’re just right.”
With his free hand, he rubbed the wax off his penis, dripping on himself again. When he seemed sure the melting wax would not scorch Morgan, he turned the candle ever so slightly and a tear-shaped glob fell on the left side of his cock and ran down to her mons before solidifying.
“Oh…” she sighed, loving the sensual flare of warmth that spread from him to her.
More wax dripped, coating him, coating her, mixing and mingling. Ethan gradually drew back, wiped off the wax and moved himself into position between her thighs and thrust into her.
Losing touch with reality, Morgan gave herself over to Ethan’s capable hands. The wax was hot, but not once did it scorch her flesh. More wax dribbled on her breasts, her nipples and her tummy before the candle burned too low. Ethan blew it out, put it aside and settled in to fuck her missionary style.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he invited, permitting her to hug him tight with her thighs and secure her ankles at the small of his back.
Ethan stretched out over her, running his fingers to the handcuffs binding her to the table before encircling her wrists to hold on tight. Giving her more strength, more courage, he made love to her, bringing sweet tears to her eyes.
If this was the discipline she’d get for being bad, she didn’t want to be good anymore. Ethan’s fucking was beautiful, kind and reverent, making her more aware of him than ever. His cock felt incredibly huge, thick and hard as steel. He filled her, completed her.
“Come whenever you’re ready,” he uttered, his thrusts more deliberate.
Morgan welcomed the sweetness, her pleasure absolute as orgasm stole through her in gentle waves. Ethan let go of her right wrist once, disengaged long enough to reach between their joined bodies and remove his cock ring and kissed her sweetly as he thrust inside her body and cum jettisoned into her seconds later.
Lost in the variety of sensations and a high-level buzz shimmering through her entire body, Morgan closed her eyes to absorb it all and drifted off into sub dreamland, unknowingly releasing the ball in her hand.
Ethan paused in mid-thrust. Morgan dropped her ball.
Remaining in tune with her, he rose up. As soon as he saw that she wasn’t panicked, he relaxed. A smile was on her face. Her eyes were closed. Her skin glowed.
She was off in her own world, subspace.
Carefully, he withdrew and unhooked her wrists and removed her bonds, then rubbed her muscles to get her circulation flowing even though she wouldn’t feel it. To be sure she was okay, he checked her pulse, normal.
Relieved, he had to smile. She was so far gone that he figured her flight would last for hours. He hadn’t even gotten to everything he’d planned for her tonight, however it was a sure bet he’d finish another time.
Wanting to get her into bed so she could sleep it off, Ethan moved off the table, stripped himself of the cloak, mask and knee pads and picked her up. Without disturbing her orbit, he blew out the candles and carried her out of the dungeon.
He paused as he entered the bedroom. Morgan murmured something about her father and grandmother. Knowing her dad and grandma were important to her, Ethan figured it was a good thing for her to communicate with them in her dreams.
Her talents as a psychic still baffled him, but he no longer doubted that Morgan could converse with those who’d passed on. He’d heard the evidence of it on his EVP recorder.
Afraid to risk having her wake up and crash too fast, he carried her to their bed, set her down long enough to turn down the covers and settled her onto the mattress.
Morgan whispered again, this time about a dog. She sounded very sweet and very happy. That’s what he’d wanted for her. He’d done his job and there was still room to grow.
Leaving Morgan long enough to go into the bathroom to fill a small plastic basin with warm soapy water and grab a washcloth and towel, he returned to his lady and gently removed traces of cum, juice, wax and sweat, then dried her off.
When she woke up, he’d help her brush her teeth and use the toilet.
For the time being, Ethan would enjoy holding her while she continued flying through her secret world. He’d been aware of her needs, of how close she was to jetting off into subspace when he decided to use the candle.
Hell, he’d not planned to drip hot wax on his dick, but it had been crazily sexy to risk the discomfort for Morgan’s sake. He’d far rather scorch his rod than have her suffer even the tiniest of blisters. The fact that he enjoyed the intense warmth of paraffin on his skin and shaft surprised him.
It was a first for him. But he’d been careful not to drip on the most sensitive areas, on either of them. Morgan was precious to him. If he’d left a blister on her, he’d personally let Phalen kick his ass six ways to Sunday and Taran could do his worst after Ethan’s bruises were gone.
Washing up in the basin and drying himself off, Ethan took the basin back to the bathroom, dumped the water and cleaned up any mess he’d left behind. He’d clean up the dungeon and kitchen after Morgan woke up. He’d far rather return to bed with her and hold her for a while.
Ethan snapped off lights as he walked to the bed, saw that Morgan was fine and climbed in beside her. Bringing her to rest with her head on his chest, he settled the covers around them and let himself relax and come down from his own Dom’s buzz.
Everything was good. Morgan was safe. They’d had an incredible night of dungeon fun. Yet cop’s instinct wouldn’t let him rest until he checked in with his partner.
While he’d made dinner, he’d arranged to have his cellphone calls forwarded to his home number since he knew he’d be unable to get to the cell easily. He carefully scooted around to avoid waking Morgan and grabbed the cordless phone on his bedside table.
A quick dial of his PIN number gave him access to voicemails that had come in since he’d come home.
“Ethan, give me a call when you get this message. No time is too late,” Sam said. “I’ve got news on Erica White, and Captain Morrison is giving us permission to reopen Jenna Bailey’s files but it’s complicated.”
That was all Ethan needed to hear to call his partner back. A glance at the clock showed that it was two in the morning. Shit!
Sam answered after the third ring. “About time you called,” she said without much preamble.
“Sorry, partner, got a little tied up with something,” Ethan said, turning his eyes to his woman. Morgan was beautiful, even mussed and looking very much as if she’d spent the last few hours fucking on a bondage table. “What did you find out about Erica?”
“Something huge, found a connection between Erica White and Spencer Bailey that he and his billionaire family managed to cover up for years.”
“Bastard told us he’d never met Erica until she became his wife’s psychic advisor.”
“Oh they knew each other.”
“In your message, you said Morrison’s going to let us reopen Jennifer Bailey’s case?”
“I was able to convince the captain to let me get hold of her original autopsy records.”
“What did you find?”
“Several inconsistencies compared to the other victims and they’re not our fault, Ethan. We turned everything we had on the Bailey case over to vice, who became the primaries due to the nature of the sex slavery ring they’d been investigating for months.”
Morgan stirred a little. Ethan calmed her by unraveling her ruined braid and running his fingers through her hair.
“What kind of inconsistencies?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet.
“ME states that in conjunction with the severity of her burns, Jenna had two head wounds, a bullet hole to the temple and bludgeoning to the back of the head. Here’s the thing, there was no exit wound and the slug was recovered. The ME also estimated that Jenna was the first of the eight girls found to be killed.”
“How the fuck was that overlooked by the prosecution
?”
“Captain wants us to find out why and we’re to report the findings to IA. This is huge, partner. Those other seven victims were bound and shot point blank in the back of the head, execution style. Frankly, there wasn’t enough gray matter or skull fragments left to determine if they were bludgeoned too.”
“Tell me more, Sam. If I remember correctly, the gun recovered from the scene was a 9 mill semiautomatic. Was it the murder weapon?” He already knew the answer. He had to ask anyway.
“In seven of them, yes. My gut tells me the shooting of Jenna Bailey was an afterthought to cover up something. I want to check the crime scene unit’s findings on shell casings and any other guns found. Somebody covered up the details, either to make sure Terrence Mills went down or to protect whoever killed Jenna.”
“Shit, heads are gonna roll for this,” Ethan said. “We’ll do what we need to do. When do you want to get started?”
“Tonight,” Sam stated. “I’m compiling all the data I have from NYPD on Erica White as we speak and sending it to you.”
“Sorry, partner, there’s not much I can do tonight. Morgan’s sound asleep and I really can’t leave her.” Leaving a sub when they were lost in subspace was irresponsible and dangerous if they were to crash in the middle of it.
From now on, he’d take Morgan into the dungeon only when he knew he wouldn’t be called away on a case.
“Tomorrow morning then, first thing,” Sam offered.
“Okay. Come by the house. I’ll get some shuteye and take a look at those files before you get here. If there’s a tie between Spencer Bailey and Erica White that goes beyond Erica being Alisa Bailey’s psychic adviser, it could change everything we thought we knew on this case.”
“Morrison says we can’t go near Bailey until we have something concrete enough to get a warrant. For now, we’re to look into the investigation of Jenna Bailey’s death only. She’s the one whose records are inconsistent with the rest of the girls. No matter what, we can’t let Terrence Mills’ defense lawyer overturn his conviction.”
“I’m not touching any other case. That sick bastard was trafficking runaways as sex slaves. He deserves to rot in prison.”
Cuff Master Page 28