On the Razor's Edge of Paradise

by Carolyn Faulkner

  I'm not even sure what happened after that—the pleasure was so intense it was painful, and I have never felt so completely, utterly, totally out of control during an orgasm before. I shook and arched my hips and back and howled and moaned and—I couldn't help it—grasped for him—some part of him, any part of him. I felt lost and overwhelmed and I had to touch him as my connection to the real world.

  Dan, of course, seemed to understand exactly what I needed. He reached out and caught my hand, holding it tight as he forced me to ride out the tsunami that was this long delayed orgasm that never seemed to end. When one set of contractions seemed to be dying off, another—sometimes even more powerful set—began to rise.

  And he kept on rubbing the very tip of his tongue over the top of my clit, guaranteeing that I wouldn't be able to stop.

  Even when he did finally leave me alone to press the tip of himself into me, it didn't even end there. My still forcefully spasming body kind of sucked him into me, milking him endlessly as he drove into me, compounding his pleasure with my own, clenching so tightly around him that—towards his end—he could barely move. But that was okay, because my muscles were doing the work for him.

  His orgasmic cry could very easily have been one of pain instead, it was so guttural, so raw and primitive.

  And still, I continued to spasm around him, as if I would never, ever be able to get enough.

  I wasn't aware that I was weeping or trembling as he climbed up me to hold my face in his hands. "Isabella, listen to me. You have to stop. That's enough. Look at me, little sub. Listen to my voice and obey me. You've had enough. That's all you're allowed to have. Stop coming, right now."

  It took me a long moment to find him, to find his eyes staring down at me lovingly as he spoke to me firmly and reassuringly at the same time. "That's it, my darling." He was soft, but still just outside me, and he could feel my contractions slowing.

  I didn't feel as if it was anything I was doing—I knew it wasn't. My body simply knew its master.

  Eventually, I collapsed, all of those muscles that had been tense for so long turned to jelly. I couldn't have moved if I had wanted to, but I didn't want to, except to curl onto his chest.

  Dan was the perfect caretaker. I keened like a lost child when he left me, but he continued to talk to me soothingly and came back to me as soon as he could, cleaning the both of us up with a warm, wet cloth, then tucking me into the curve of his body while I clutched at his arms, terrified that he might leave me.

  "I'm not going anywhere, my love," he whispered. "And neither are you." The blankets were magically pulled up and tucked in around us, although I continued to shake and shiver, it was much less so than it had been. He simply held me tight and whispered his love for me over and over again, whispering how proud he was of me, how beautiful I was to him as I slowly drifted down from a towering height.

  A long while later, when I had regained the ability to do more than just flail and wail, I spoke, my voice weak and tentative, "D-Dan?"

  He was right there, mouth on my ear. "Yes, baby girl?"

  "I-I came."

  He chuckled. "Why, yes, yes you most certainly did. How do you feel, lovely?"

  "I feel like it was all a dream." I was definitely still floating, and it was definitely some sort of endorphin high or some such thing. I didn't know what was making me feel this way, but I knew it was better than any recreational drug I'd ever tried.

  His arms squeezed me tight. "It wasn't. I can attest to that. It was one of the most magnificent things I've ever been privileged to see."

  "Stop," I wheezed.

  A hand found my bottom cheek in warning. "Be careful, young lady. Hmm, I think the next time I allow you do that, after a good long while, I'm going to have to spank you first. I think that would add something to it for you."

  "I knew it," I moaned.

  "What?" He was serious.

  But I was not. "You're trying to kill me. I've said it before, and now I have p-proof."

  "Never," he vowed. "You are much too precious to me—and now, to my parents." He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, I couldn't decide whether he was jealous or not. "I think my mother likes you better than she likes me."

  I chuckled. Once. Tiredly. That was all I could manage, and I was surprised that I could manage that.

  "Dan?"

  "Yes, baby?"

  "I hate to say it, but I have to go pee."

  "Your wish is my command, m'lady," he said, whisking me away in his arms to his cavernous bathroom, depositing me on the pot and sitting down on the edge of the enormous, partially sunken tub to wait for me.

  My eyes went round at the sight of it. "Is that your pool?" It was probably the size of the bedroom I grew up in—no exaggeration. It had stairs down into it.

  He smiled. "My tub, as if you didn't know."

  I gazed at it longingly. "Maybe being rich isn't so bad."

  "Wait'll you see the actual pool," he teased enticingly. "It's heated and can be enclosed so it can be used in the winter. It's Olympic sized, with a slide and a diving board at the deepest end."

  Damn, that sounded wonderful! I loved to swim, although I didn't do it all that often anymore. "Perhaps I have been a little hasty—" I said, blushing as I wiped myself, then found myself back in his arms for the return trip.

  That got him laughing. "I should have shown you the bathroom and the pool first, huh?"

  "I warned you I could be bought, although I'd bet they both cost a pretty penny more than a dessert."

  "I'll try to remember that."

  "Why, are you thinking of moving?"

  "Only into your place, if that's what you want."

  I sighed. "I don't know what I want right now. I can't think. I barely know my name anymore, and it's all your fault."

  "That could be considered a good thing."

  In the quiet, I remembered to say something. "Thank you for taking me to the bathroom. I'm not kidding when I say that I'm not at all sure that I could make it there under my own steam."

  "Luckily, you don't need to find out." He kissed my temple. "And you're very welcome, darling."

  For a long moment, we were silent.

  Then he came up with, "Does that hold any interest for you at all?"

  I stiffened a bit in his arms, wondering what he was about. "Does what hold any interest for me, dare I ask?"

  "Well, it's kind of a component of D/s, but one I've never explored before."

  "What, already?"

  "Age play."

  "How'd you get from here to there?" I wondered out loud.

  "Well, I helped you to the potty, essentially, and it is an offshoot of D/s, sort of. You love bubble baths and being taken care of. Does the idea squick you? I know it does a lot of folks in the D/s community, unfortunately."

  I'd never thought about it before, and I said so.

  "Interested in exploring it with me, perhaps?"

  I nodded lazily. "Perhaps. Ask me again when I'm alive, please."

  Another silence, during which I had grown very close to sleeping.

  And then he pressed his lips to my ear and said something that startled me awake, "Little girls get to come even less often than big ones. Think about that while you sleep."

  THE END

  CAROLYN FAULKNER

  The words “spanking” and “discipline” have always sent a shiver up Carolyn Faulkner's spine. She knows she's not alone.

  Writing started as a way to explore her feelings. Soon short stories flowed from her pen featuring reluctant heroes taking the leading lady in hand, but always for her own good.

  Today Carolyn is the author of dozens of books. She writes from her home in Maine, where she lives with her husband and leading man.

  You can read an interview with Carolyn here:

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  What’s Inside

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Carolyn Faulkner

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

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