Master of Pleasure
Page 4
“Zara…”
His tone made her shiver, but if she had any doubt that he could enforce his command, then she soon had those doubts debunked. He was seizing hold of one of her breasts, massaging it for a moment, and then suddenly, landing a slap which sent it swinging. She gasped. He slapped again, across the frontal flesh, making it throb along with her nipple. She moaned, the blow bringing such a delicious swell of moisture to her pussy. It stung her to attention, and somehow, she was able to draw her body’s focus away from the amazing pleasure, to the opposite edge of sweet pain.
“So, tell me how much you want to come.”
His words permeated her frenzied state of fighting to stay on the brink without toppling over. She could only sob out her response. “So much. I need to come so bad. Please Sir, now.”
“Now? I wonder who’s in charge here, you or me?”
“Oh, you, Sir. Only you. It’s just…just that I can’t…I can’t take it. It’s too much. Sir, please.” Zara wasn’t ashamed to beg; in fact she was hoping it would have an effect on her dominant lover. She hoped to reach out to him now that he was hearing her beg for her own relief, knowing it could only truly come from him.
Only he could give her the utter release she so terrifically longed for.
* * *
He loved to hear her plead, that became clear. It was part of her discipline, to show her never to forget who really was the boss, in every way. For every pleasure, every ounce of bliss that she received, she was to always tell herself that he was the one allowing it all take place.
And now, it looked like at last he would let her find release. She could feel it in his thrusts, which were no less punishing. But still, there was always an edge of sweetness to the ferocity, a slash of sensuality within the kink.
He ground his hips into her, sending his mushroom cap into corners of her pussy that held the trigger to her ecstasy. His rhythm was relentless, fast and hot, and her walls could only grip to him like a suction tube, drawing in every single inch of him balls-deep into her core.
“Zara.” Her name had never sounded so sweet coming from another’s lips. She peeled open her eyes to gaze up into his face, seeing the emotions raging there – and knowing they mirrored her own. She was clutching to his waist as his thrusts almost drove her into the ground. There was such intensity in their passion now, and even she could tell that at last, he was getting to the point of no return.
He didn’t fall through though, not yet. He was waiting for something.
“Ready, Zara?” he asked, his voice gruff as he penetrated her with his eyes. She knew what he meant; it was a question her body had been waiting to hear for the last hour or more.
“Yes, Sir. I’m ready.” So ready I could combust, she added silently, never taking her gaze from him. He was smiling tenderly, and for the first time she began to notice the tiny beads of perspiration gathering at his forehead, plastering his hair to his scalp. She could almost believe then that all this had been as much a torture for him as it had been for her.
“Then go wild, baby. Come for me,” he told her softly.
Zara could never have believed it possible, but it happened. Almost on demand, she felt her body start to spasm as her release welled up like a fountain. With just those words, spoken in that now familiar, compelling tone of voice, Chase had activated her orgasm.
He never stopped thrusting at that same piston speed, not easing up even as she arched her back and screamed. Zara came in a shuddering rush, her whole body jerking as his cock slammed into her again and again, filling the room with the slapping sounds of their colliding flesh.
For a few moments she was lost in a void, oblivious to any sensation but the spirals of ecstasy that rippled through her. From far away, she finally heard her name being ground from his lips, and felt him surge into her with his own equally tumultuous climax.
The bliss, the culmination, was mutually accomplished. She spun back down to reality, clinging to him in the final agonies. If there was anything better than this, she’d never known it. Had never felt an orgasm so powerful it had almost caused her heart to stop beating. He’d tormented her to this point, withheld her release each time so that she could feel this final, outstandingly perfect zenith of pleasure.
Zara was very, very grateful. So grateful, that she heard herself whisper the words, thank you Sir. Thank you for giving me such an exquisite orgasm. For making me first suffer so I could truly understand pleasure…reward. And I can’t wait for it to happen again…
~ * ~ * ~
About The Author
Adriana Hunter writes stories for those who live to dream. Her stories run the gamut, from romance, fantasy, paranormal to captivating stories of seductive medieval nights, and wild, adult fairytales.
If you are fascinated by unique tales Adriana will deliver on her promise to create spellbinding stories that will tantalize your senses and provoke your imagination.
http://www.AdrianaHunter.com