Emily panted, lost in the swirl of bliss and wild, vengeful pleasure that split her into pieces, every microsecond an extension of the delight Master forged for her. He didn’t stop, sucking greedily at her clit and teasing her folds with his electric fingers as she bucked and writhed through her extended, intensified, agonizing climax. It poured through her like ice, like the white tail of some blinding star that hit her so hard it slowed down time. She felt as if her throat was burning, the air itself set on fire, and the weight of a perfect oblivion seemed to roll over her, filling her head with a nothingness where all that remained real was pleasure. It vibrated through every cell of her body until she was sure she’d be shaken apart, and her wonderfully wicked Master spun it out until the intensity veered into pain and she was whimpering and shying from him, her madly tingling, throbbing pussy drenched and sated.
“I told you it could be good, didn’t I?” Greg murmured as he switched off the unit.
Emily, her head lolling against the pillow, peered blearily up at him.
She meant to say “Yes, Master” but she was pretty sure what came out was a garbled stream of vowels. He smiled at her, stroking his hands gently across her body. It still felt like sparks, but not the electric kind, just the kind they always made together.
Emily parted her thighs, pushing her hips toward him in a wordless, acquiescent plea. She knew what he needed. He must have been at least as desperate for release as he’d made her and, despite the echoes of devastating pleasure still beating throughout her body, she wanted him.
Her Master’s smile widened, his face suffused with pride as he started to unbutton his jeans. He climbed slowly onto the bed, the mattress creaking beneath him, and her body rolled a little into the hollows he created, arms still dangling from her shackles in voluptuous exhaustion.
Greg eased himself between her legs, his hands gently skimming her thighs, petting her again as he took a condom from his pocket. His gaze didn’t leave hers as he sheathed himself, but Emily’s eyes closed as he took hold of her body, holding her tight as he thrust into her. She hung limply from her bindings, pliant and wet while he fucked her with long, slow strokes, groans escaping through his gritted teeth. He tipped his head back, the light of the candles—nearly burned down now, their fragrance still hanging sweetly in the air—catching at the strong line of his jaw as he buried himself in her body.
Emily gasped as Master hitched her thighs up, her ankle ties stretched as far as they could while he thrust deep into her, each stroke filling the room with the wet, hungry echoes of their union. His every movement owned her, claiming her anew with each inch, each thrust inside her.
He picked up his pace, taking her roughly, the aftershocks of the electricity and the intensity of his teasing seeming to dance still in her flesh. He pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing in hard, uncompromising circles as he pounded into her. Emily arched up from the bed, caught in the mind-throttling flood of another orgasm that racked her flesh in waves of crackling pleasure. She barely remembered to breathe, her limbs feeling hot and leaden as the paroxysms of bliss subsided and Master withdrew, quickly tugging off the condom so that he could finish across her belly, marking her with the hot spurts of his seed.
Emily stared into that flushed, broad face, Master’s blue-gray gaze steadily holding hers, and she smiled softly as he reached out and touched her cheek.
“Good girl, little one,” he murmured, his voice wavering faintly for the first time that night.
Her smile widened. “Thank you, Master.”
Greg let out a long sigh, grinning at her as he surveyed the ropes and the disheveled bedclothes. Emily turned her head to the side, glancing up at her chafed wrists, and bit her lip.
He was slow and gentle as he began to untie her, and the rush of blood back into her limbs stung as much as the wand ever had, but her whole body was still alight with the feeling of electricity shimmering under her skin and her head seemed to be floating high above her shoulders. Everything felt wide and wonderful, sensitive and exotic, and despite knowing it would probably take days for her to glide back to herself, Emily already knew she couldn’t wait for the next time they could play with the violet wand.
Without doubt, it had been the best gift Greg had ever given her.
About Chastity Vicks
Chastity Vicks likes her denim ripped, her music loud and her beer very, very cold. Her stories trail a scarlet-tipped finger across the fantasies and secrets inside us all and, while the genres might change, the heat is rarely turned down.
Chastity is an award-winning, multi-published author who writes under several different pen names. You can find out more by visiting her website.
Chastity welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Chastity Vicks
In His Hands
Waiting for Dessert
Print books by Chastity Vicks
Wedded and Bedded anthology
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Ultra Violet
ISBN 9781419948640
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Ultra Violet Copyright © 2014 Chastity Vicks
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover design by Syneca
Cover photography by shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication April 2014
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