At the door to the master bedroom, Gabe made an unexpected detour to a separate door just to the right. Melanie wondered why they were going into a closet—at least that was what she assumed the unexplored area behind the door led to—but was surprised to find it was a very small bedroom, perhaps designed as a nursery since the rest of the bedrooms were on the opposite side of the house. Her heart warmed at the thought, but then her entire body flushed when she realized that instead of a cradle or crib, the only object in the room was something that reminded her of a small mechanical bull with various straps and gizmos attached, and what she could only describe as a giant dildo in its center.
“What the hell?” she said under her breath as he tugged her into the room and shut the door.
“I was going to wait to show you this after dinner,” he said, “but knowing it’s here, finally ready to ride, I just couldn’t wait.”
“Is this what I think it is?” She edged closer, approaching slowly as if the contraption might spook, rear up, and kick her in the face.
“I’ve been working on it for years, but ultimately abandoned it until recently,” he said, his eyes full of excitement. “I wasn’t sure what it was missing until I woke up in the middle of the night a few nights ago and knew that the failed prototype I had planned to try out on you last weekend was the missing link.”
Melanie cringed. The thing looked—well—violent. It was black, covered in faux leather, with studded straps, buckles of various sizes, and a few ropes. Red satin sashes dangled from the rear like a kinky tail.
“The, uh . . . man part . . .” She licked her lips and swallowed. “It’s a bit large, don’t you think?”
“Fully adjustable,” he said with pride in his voice. “It starts out small and you use this . . .” He handed her a remote control with at least twenty buttons. “. . . to increase the length and girth to your liking.”
She pushed a button, and the shaft began to piston up and down. Despite her trepidation, Melanie felt a tingle of excitement between her legs. Gabe took the remote from her and shut off the thrusting cock.
“I think all single ladies need one of these,” she said, “but if you have a partner . . .”
Gabe smirked. “He gets the remote.”
In her experience, men did love to fiddle with remote controls. With her heart thudding, she wondered what “channel surfing” would feel like while strapped to this crazy, yet intriguing, invention of Gabe’s. His gadgets and devices had never failed to send her soaring, so this, his magnum opus, would undoubtedly be phenomenal.
“Show me more,” she said, running her hand along the side of the pommel. The material was cool and smooth.
“You need to be naked for that.”
“I’m not sure I’m prepared to climb on board,” she said.
“Oh.” His shoulders sank as she knocked the wind out of his sails.
“I don’t mean never. I just mean . . .”
He took her by the hand and led her to a big black case sitting in the corner. “At least come see the attachments.”
He knelt and opened the case, and she dropped to her knees beside him for a closer look.
“These are skins,” he said. “They fit over the dong.”
She giggled at his use of the word dong, but had to admit the skins were fascinating. They were all made out of the same surprisingly supple grayish material that was shaped to fit over the phallus and stretch to accommodate the lady’s size preference. The surfaces varied from smooth to lightly textured to bumpy to having various tickly-looking strands at the tip. There were skins with ridges, knobby projections, and rows of bumps along one side or the other.
“Why so many different textures?” She’d already picked out one that looked like it would rub her front wall in just the right spot, but she wasn’t about to tell Gabe that. Not yet.
Gabe grinned at her. “Every pussy is different. What feels good to one woman might hurt another. Do you think the gray color is a turn-off? I could add pigments to the polymer to make the skins more interesting or create various flesh tones or . . .”
“I don’t think the color matters. I always wondered why vibrators were purple and red. Like that’s hot in any way.”
“Must be a reason,” he said. “I’m sure there are people whose job is to determine which color is most likely to increase dildo sales.”
Melanie giggled, wondering what such an employee’s resume looked like, but knew Gabe was right. That was totally someone’s job.
“So gray is okay?”
“Let’s slide a skin on and see how it looks.” She nonchalantly handed him the skin she most wanted to try out.
He kissed her under her ear. “That one’s going to make you squirt.”
Exactly. She loved how this man understood her anatomy and how he was unashamed to take the time and ask the questions required to figure out what gave her the most pleasure. So many men just went at it, hoping by some miracle that they were doing it right, and if not, oh well, must be something wrong with the woman.
He helped her rise and used the remote to decrease the length and girth of the phallus before showing her how to stretch the skin over it and snap the dildo’s wide square base securely into place in what she could only describe as the saddle.
“The gray looks good with the black leather surrounding it.” And staring at that now-small phallus with that big bump on the top—that she could get in exactly the right spot by altering the size and girth of the shaft—had her pressing her thighs together to calm her irrefutable excitement.
Gabe pushed on a spot behind the phallus, and a smaller, more slender dildo shifted into position behind the first.
“Optional anal stimulation,” he said before uncovering a ridge in front of the main phallus. “And clit vibration. What do you think about adding suction?”
Her breath stalled in her throat. “Yaaaassss,” she said as she forced the breath out. “That clit-sucky thing you made . . .” She produced a full body shudder. “Dear lord, every woman needs that thing in her life.”
He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, her breasts pressed firmly into his hard chest. Which reminded her of another gadget he’d invented that had rocked her world.
“What about those buzzy nipple clamps?” she asked. “Could those be an attachment?”
“Already are,” he murmured, lifting the hem of her shirt and caressing the bare skin of her lower back with both hands. “So what do you say? Are you brave enough to take it for a ride?”
“Fuck yeah, I am,” she said, yanking her shirt off over her head.
He pulled her back into his arms, cupping her bottom in a strong grip and kissing her senseless. “I love you more with each passing second,” he said when he finally drew away.
“I know the feeling,” she said, breathless and giddy and more than a little anxious to climb aboard his . . . “What do you call this thing, anyway?”
“Haven’t named it yet.” He scowled in concentration. “How about the Pleasure Pump?”
Melanie winced and shook her head. “So not sexy. You can do better.”
“Maybe inspiration for a name will strike me while I watch you get off on it.”
She grinned. He seemed as excited to start her maiden voyage as she was. His fingers moved to unfasten her jeans, and he kissed her deeply while he slipped her pants and panties down her thighs as far as he could reach. She moaned a protest when he broke the kiss, but groaned in pleasure as his lips began to journey down her neck, along her collarbone and down her chest so that he could push her clothing lower. Her jeans were at her knees when he latched on to one nipple, sucking so hard through the lacy fabric of her bra that she had to cling to his shoulders to keep her balance.
He helped her out of her pants and slid one strong hand up the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of touching the parts of her so molten with desire for him that she was in danger of catching fire.
“Gabe,” she murmured, her thighs trembling with need.
“Please.”
“I have some lube,” he said. “Or we can do this the old-fashioned way.”
“What’s the old-fashioned way?”
He dropped to his knees and scooted closer. “Allow me to show you,” he murmured, a wicked gleam in his eye. He looped one of her legs over his shoulder, grabbed her ass and pulled her already throbbing pussy to his mouth.
“Ah yes, I definitely prefer this. Guess I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl,” she said, her hands holding on to his head, fingers tangled in the long silky strands of his strip of hair.
His soft laugh teased her sensitive and already slick skin before his tongue and mouth went to work on her clit. The way he roughly massaged her ass cheeks was equally responsible for getting her juices flowing. Her head dropped back as she lost herself to the feel of his mouth and fingers, all tugging at her in ways that quickly increased her excitement. He released her ass with one hand and slipped two fingers inside her. She cried out and then gasped in surprise when he pulled them out and moved them to her ass. Oh yes, this was far better than lubing up with an artificial product. When he decided she was wet enough—was the ocean wet enough?—he eased her back to standing on her own—an incredible feat on her wobbly legs—and then showed her where to put her foot to mount his invention.
He became weirdly businesslike as he positioned the pathetically small and slightly flaccid dildo inside her. She was so turned on that it actually felt good, and she rocked against it impatiently, wishing it were larger, harder, and pistoning into her like she’d seen in Gabe’s earlier demonstration. Next, he fastened a bunch of straps to hold her legs in position, which shifted her clit against that intriguing ridge he’d showed her.
“Hold here,” he instructed, pointing out two handle grips on either side of the saddle-shaped center of the device.
She complied, her anticipation building with each added component. The straps around her thighs were incredibly sexy for some reason.
“Anal stimulation?” he asked, as if he were asking if she wanted ketchup with her fries.
“Do you really need to ask?”
She squeaked when he messed with something behind her, and then he abruptly walked away. She turned her head to watch him remove several somethings from the case of skins.
“What kind of shape do you want?”
She laughed. “For my butt?”
“I don’t have as many varieties yet. I’ve been focusing mostly on vaginal stimulation, but I know you like a little tickle in the rear.”
“You pick,” she said, not sure if she was flushing with embarrassment or excitement. “Just hurry.”
He returned and without showing her what he decided on, he attached it with an audible snap and then shifted her slightly. Something pressed against her rear entrance but didn’t penetrate her.
“Do you want the nipples clamps too?” he asked.
Jeez, she’d be ready for the nursing home by the time he got her hooked up to the thing.
“I’m all in,” she said.
He bit his lip. “I think that might be a bit much to start you with. Maybe next time.”
He was probably right, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed.
He stepped back and looked her over, adjusting a strap here, tightening a rope there, until he seemed satisfied. Melanie decided she was either in for the ride of her life or would soon be having the most embarrassing trip to the emergency room in the history of sexual deviants. But she didn’t have time to worry because Gabe pushed the first button on his remote control.
The small phallus inside her began to churn, and she got a great lesson in how it’s not all about the size, but how he uses it before it began to enlarge—first in girth, until she was moaning at the delicious stretch, and then in length until that enlarged bump she’d first been drawn to hit her in a spot that had her screaming in pleasure. And then the thing began to thrust. While it was still churning. Holy fuck! Melanie gripped the hand holds with all her strength as an intense vaginal orgasm shuddered through her. That was when Gabe decided to turn on the anal stimulation, which sent her soaring even higher. She couldn’t help but rock against the saddle, working against both the ingenuous dildo and the small bead popping in and out of her ass.
“Hold still, baby,” Gabe said, his hand touching her shoulder. “Let it do all the work.”
She tried staying still, but it was instinctual to move.
“Let’s see if this helps,” he said, pushing yet another button.
A hard, oscillating vibration buzzed against her clit and while it didn’t help her fight her instincts to fuck the ingenious machine, it made her body shudder with an instantaneous clitoral orgasm.
“Gabe,” she called, sobbing from the intensity of her pleasure.
“One more, baby,” he said. “I need to make sure full functionality doesn’t overload the system. Do you think you can handle just a little more?”
More? How could there be more?
He unhooked her bra and let it dangle from her arms before he reached for the slender cords hanging from the pommel in front of her. She moaned as he licked her nipple to wet it and carefully attached one clip. She was lost in a second clitoral orgasm when he was repeating the action on her other breast.
Before she could tell him that she believed it was indeed possible to die from too much pleasure, he pushed a button on his remote and a tingle zinged through both nipples, making her insides tighten with breath-stealing rhythmic spasms. The overwhelming force of her release ripped a scream from her throat.
“What in the hell are you doing to her?” Nikki asked from outside the door. “It sounds like she’s dying.”
She was dying. If dying felt like every cell in your body was having an orgasm simultaneously.
“Just trying out a new prototype,” Gabe said. “She’s fine. Tell her you’re fine, Mel.”
“Turn it off,” Melanie cried. “Can’t take . . . another orgasm. Oh God, I think . . .” She came again, not sure how it was possible when she was still coming from nipple stimulation. But all the things going on in her pussy had pushed her over another edge, and the motion in her ass and the vibrations in her clit drove her beyond yet another height.
“We’re going to back you down slowly, babe,” Gabe said. “I’ll turn off the clit massage first.”
“Clit massage?” Nikki was suddenly beside Melanie, trying to see under her thigh.
As soon as the vibration stopped against Melanie’s clit, she found the frame of mind to take a breath. And then another.
“What are these things on your nipples?” Nikki asked, touching Melanie’s breast.
“Nikki,” Gabe said, “I think the lasagna is burning. Let me bring Melanie down, and we’ll show you how it works later.”
“I get to ride it?”
“Well, no, it’s just for Mel, but you can look at it.”
“Look at it? But I wanna—”
“Will you two stop arguing and get me off this thing?” Melanie shouted.
“Does watching her get off on a machine turn you on?” Nikki asked. “You’re pitching quite the tent there, Force.”
“Get out!” Melanie said. She released a sigh of relief when she heard the door close and loosed a second relieved breath when Gabe locked it.
“Should have locked the door earlier,” Gabe said. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think.”
The bead driving her ass crazy popped out one final time, and the tingling stopped in her nipples. Her pussy was mostly numb from all the stimulation, so it took her a minute to realize the dildo inside her had stopped dancing and was slowly decreasing in size.
“She probably thought you were murdering me,” Melanie said, collapsing against the front of the pommel even though doing so pulled at her still-bound legs. “I’m sure I was screaming.”
“Was it hurting you?” Gabe said. “I thought you liked it, but maybe I was reading you wrong.”
“If you thought I liked it, you were definitely wro
ng. I fucking loved it. I do think I might be permanently maimed, however. I can’t feel my feet.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Gabe said, hurriedly unfastening several buckles.
“Because I was coming too hard to notice at the time.” She whimpered when her leg dropped free and her muscles protested at the sudden movement.
“Maybe I need to rethink the restraints,” he said, hurrying around to her opposite side to release her other leg.
“I’m not sure I could stay on it without them,” she said, pushing herself upright so she was no longer straddling the saddle at an angle. “And you’d have to redesign the clit massager; it wouldn’t be at the right angle. Maybe some sort of cushion to rest my belly against would work better. My muscles feel like jelly.”
“So you like the current angle?” Gabe asked, his gaze searching hers.
She was surprised he wasn’t jotting down notes.
“It’s perfect. The whole thing, perfect.”
He smiled.
“Its inventor?” She rolled her eyes to the heavens. “A fucking genius.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself off the device. Gabe moved her closer, so that her toes were barely touching the ground and her front was pressed securely against his. She shifted her gaze left and then right when she became aware of something hard pressed into her lower belly. “Is that a drumstick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
“It’s the one problem with making your woman get off without you.”
She squirmed out of his grasp. “That’s one problem I have the solution to.”
She backed him into the door and yanked open the fly of his jeans before sinking to her knees and doing her best to make Force lose mass with rapidly accelerating friction.
Chapter Eleven
By the time Gabe came to his senses, Melanie’s homemade lasagna dinner was undoubtedly cold. The cook was lying on the floor beside him, staring up at the ceiling. Every ten seconds or so, she’d look over at his invention, get a silly look on her face, and then go back to staring up at the ceiling. He hoped he hadn’t invented himself out of a lover by creating the ultimate pleasure machine.
Trust Me (One Night with Sole Regret Book 11) Page 13