Master Chef

by Danielle Berggren

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Veronica

  When he kissed me, his tongue immediately demanded entry. I opened for him and he plunged in, almost as hard as his grip on my hair. I was like a live wire, all nerve and sensation. I moaned against him. I had become wet almost as soon as I walked into his playroom. The very thought of everything that might go on within these walls was enough to get me going.

  I trusted that he would be true to his word. Dominant and submissive relationships are based on trust, and Ethan had shown that he was more than what he had seemed to be at work. Outside of the kitchen, he had been nothing but a gentleman. I had to trust that attitude would extend to this room.

  I started to touch him, but he broke the kiss. “No,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Take off your clothes.” When I hesitated, he barked, “Now, Veronica.”

  I stripped, peeling off my work clothes and letting them fall to the floor. Ethan watched me. When I had finished, he held out a hand to me, “Come here.”

  I came to him.

  “Next time I tell you to take off your clothing, there will be no hesitation,” he said. “Consider that your first and final warning.”

  I nodded.

  “What do you say?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “Yes, I understand, what?”

  “Yes, I understand, sir.”

  He smiled, “Good.” He began to walk around me. He did not touch me, but the weight of his gaze fell like a brand. He stayed at my back for a time, and I itched to turn around and look at him. I was facing the wall of flogging devices. They seemed to have eyes of their own, as though they too were calculating all the delicious things they might do to me.

  Ethan came back within sight. I glanced down and noted the long, hard outline of him through his trousers. His voice was rough when he spoke. “Open your mouth.”

  I did. He came close and traced a finger across my lips, then down my chin, my neck, and between my breasts. He continued downward until the finger hovered at my slit. I was trembling, anticipation and nerves riding a razor’s edge within my mind and body. It felt like it had been years and years since someone had touched me. I wanted to feel him press hard, to claim me with his hands, his mouth, and every other part of him, but his touch was feather-light.

  His eyes lifted to mine. “Tell me, Veronica, are you wet?”

  I nodded, and then remembered, “Yes, sir.”

  “For how long?”

  “Since I came in here, sir.”

  His smile was brief. He touched my outer folds. I almost cried out from that brief caress. Good God, I thought, what’s it going to be like when he’s actually in me?

  His finger slipped a little inside and my trembling increased. “You are wet,” he said, sounding somewhat awed. He stroked his finger along, teasing the sensitive bud, and then he pulled away.

  He pressed the fingers he’d used against my lips. “Suck me clean,” he said.

  I did, tasting myself against his skin. He watched me, his eyes shining and his chest rising as he took in a deep, calming breath. He slowly withdrew his finger. “Good,” he said. “Now come over here.”

  He led me to the bondage horse. “Lean over and place your hands on either side,” he said. I did what he asked. “Good girl. Stay just where you are.”

  I watched him go to the drawers and remove a pair of manacles and then grab a coil of rope from one of the racks. He returned to me and secured my wrists to manacles that he locked on either side of the horse. I might move my wrists about an inch in any direction, but further than that and the metal cuffs began to cut into my skin. He knelt and tied my ankles to the feet of the horse. The rope was soft but strong, and he secured me with the skill of someone long used to doing something of this kind.

  By the time he was finished, I was wide-legged and bent over, my bare ass up in the air, my breasts pressed against the vinyl cover. I could lift my head a little, but beyond that I was immobile.

  “How does that feel, Veronica?”

  I shivered. “It feels amazing, sir.”

  “How would you like it if I left you like this for an hour? Two?”

  I swallowed. My throat was suddenly dry. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Would you still be wet for me, hm?”

  I nodded, “I think so, sir.”

  He ran both hands over my skin, starting at my ankles and moving up my legs. He moved in a wide arc around my most sensitive areas. He pressed down hard, his fingers digging deep into my skin. I shuddered.

  When he reached my shoulders, he said, “I have a mind to leave you like this... but later, perhaps.” He moved away from me again. I stayed very still, my head turned away from him. I heard him grab a few things. The fluttering feeling in my gut intensified, as did the dryness of my throat. When he touched my hair, I jumped. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”

  I closed my eyes. I felt him gather up my hair. Gooseflesh ran down my spine and arms when he did this. He paused and touched my bare back. “Your skin shows so much of what you’re feeling, Veronica. It’s amazing.”

  I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth. “Thank you, sir.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I like you.” His voice came closer, and I could feel his breath against my ear. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you like this, Ms. Delaware?” His hand began to move in rhythmic circles up and down my back. “To have you at my mercy, to have your pleasure belong to me?”

  He removed his hand and gathered up the last of my long, unruly hair. He tied it up in a bun atop my head and gave it a soft, experimental tug. I gasped. “Do you like having your hair pulled?” He asked.

  “Yes.”

  There was a pause, “You forgot something, Ms. Delaware.”

  He ran a fingernail down my spine and I shuddered. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Ethan moved away from me again. I felt his absence even though I could not see or hear his movements. When he returned, it was followed immediately by the sensation of something cool and soft trailing over my naked backside. “Do you know what this is, Veronica?”

  “A whip, sir?”

  His hand came out and ran over my hips, pressing hard. “No. It’s a flogger. A small one, a soft one compared to my others, but it has many tails instead of just one.” He continued to move the cords up my body, running them feather-light across my ass, over my hips, up my back, and then down my legs. When they rose again, he pressed the part where the straps and handle met against me. I bucked and let out a soft cry, lifting my head. I could only just see him if I strained hard enough.

  “Head back down, Ms. Delaware, or I’ll restrain that pretty neck of yours.”

  “Yes, sir.” I put my head back down, even though I wanted to see him, to see what he was doing to me.

  The flogger continued its travels of my body. I was shaking so bad that I was more thankful for the restraints than ever. Without them I would have fallen over for sure. “Veronica,” he said, his voice soft. “Do you want me to hit you? To mark this pretty skin of yours?”

  “Yes, please, sir.”

  “Please, what?”

  “Please hit me, sir.”

  The handle of the device pressed against my sensitive parts again and I cried out against it. He kept up the pressure, moving it up and down with small, circular motions. I pressed back against it as much as I could within the confine of my bonds.

  Ethan gave me no more warning. One moment the flogger was pressed against me, massaging me, and the next it was gone.

  I heard the slap and felt the sting as the tails came down across my ass. I cried out.

  “Count them, Ms. Delaware.”

  “One, sir.”

  He did it again. I counted two. This time, he paused and rubbed his hand on my skin. “Oh, you mark beautifully,” he murmured. “Code check, Ms. Delaware. Where are you?”

  “Green, sir.”

  “Good.”

  The flogger came down again. And again. After the sixth st
roke, he asked me, again, where I was. “Green, sir.”

  “Do you want me to hit you harder?”

  I paused. Each time the straps came down, I felt as though they were connecting to a bundle of nerves that culminated in my clit. I was close, and he had not yet given me permission to come.

  “Answer me, Ms. Delaware,” he warned.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I want you to hit me harder, but I’m afraid I’ll come, sir.”

  He chuckled, “You’re already that excited, are you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He tapped the handle of the flogger against my upraised hips. “You may come once while I’m flogging you. Do you understand me?”

  I swallowed, “Yes, sir.”

  He hit me again, harder than before, and I cried out, body trembling. I counted seven. Warmth radiated from where I had been struck, further kindling the fire that had been building in me since I walked through the door.

  By the time he reached sixteen, the pain and pleasure combination had ridden me hard enough that I was sure one touch between my legs would send me over the edge, but he never touched me there. Some of the straps came close, but never quite close enough.

  Ethan threw down the flogger. I saw it fall to the floor. I gasped and shuddered. I had never experienced anything like this before. It was better than watching it being done to someone else through a computer screen. Better than I had ever imagined it to be.

  “You didn’t come, did you?”

  I shook my head, “No, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  “I came very close, but it was never quite enough, sir.” I wanted to look at him, but he had told me not to. Being under his power was an enormous rush. I had ceased to think of him as the man who had tormented my friends and me at the restaurant. Or even the man who had helped me the last few days.

  He was simply ‘sir’. He was to be obeyed.

  It was exhilarating.

  His hands ran up my thighs. “You are wet down to your knees,” he said, awe and satisfaction lacing his tone. “How long has it been since you were with someone?”

  “A little over a year, sir,” I whispered.

  He chuckled low. “You need the release, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. Please, sir, I want to come.”

  “I know you do. Not yet.” His fingers traced the exterior of my opening and then pulled away. I felt him step back and heard his zipper fall, and the rustling as he removed his clothing. He came around to where I could see him. He was hard and huge, larger than anyone I had ever been with before, limited though that was.

  I watched him approach, rolling my eyes up to look at him. He grasped my hair by the bun and lifted my head. “I want you to suck me, Veronica. I want to feel that pink tongue of yours wrapped around my cock.”

  I licked my lips and opened for him when he moved toward me. He held me by the hair, half controlling my movements. I took him as far in as I could, which was just over half the length of him, and ran my tongue along the bottom of his cock. He let out a breathless sigh and began to move in and out of my mouth.

  I was surrounded by the taste and smell of him. I rolled my tongue over him, stroking him, sucking hard on his flesh. He started to thrust into me and I cried out around him. “Look at me, Ms. Delaware,” he said, his voice a low growl.

  I rolled my eyes up to his. He was looking down, his arm propped on the stand of the dungeon horse near my head, and the other lost in my hair. His eyes were like great dark pools of primal need, but still I could see the enormous restraint that he was holding over his desire. He wanted me to enjoy this, wanted to make this first encounter last as long as he could.

  He thrust into me again and I had to fight to keep my eyes open, my tongue moving. His grip tightened in my hair and I moaned again, fighting around the feel of him in my mouth, desperate to keep my tongue and lips working to his satisfaction.

  I wanted nothing more than to please him.

  He kept his eyes on me, and when his breath began to quicken, he said in a choked whisper, “You will swallow, Ms. Delaware.”

  I couldn’t believe he could keep up coherent thought. I could not think and I wasn’t the one so close to orgasm. I kept up the work with my tongue and felt my teeth rasp against his skin lightly. He gasped and thrust once more, hard, into my mouth. I felt his hot seed spill down my throat and it convulsed, working to swallow him before I choked. His grip on my hair was so tight that my eyes were beginning to water, but still I kept them rolled up to him, watching his face slacken as he came.

  He pulled out of my mouth still hard and released his hold on my hair. I swallowed a few times and licked my lips. I could taste him, salty and sweet in my mouth.

  He leaned down and kissed me, turning my head up so that he could sweep his tongue into my mouth. When he broke away, we both gasped. “That was very good,” he said, voice husky. “Have you ever swallowed a man’s come before?”

  “No, sir.”

  He stroked my hair, “You were amazing. How are you feeling?”

  “Green, sir. That felt... I loved it, sir.”

  He smiled and brushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen on my face. His own dark locks fell forward and shadowed his face. He was so handsome it made my heart contract a little just to look at him. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

  He moved away, his hand keeping contact with my body. It ran down my back to my ass. I felt him kneel, felt his breath against that sensitive part of me. “You’re still so wet, Ms. Delaware,” he said, an edge of amusement in his voice. “Were you gaining pleasure from sucking my cock?”

  “Yes, I was, sir.”

  “Mm,” he said, and I felt his fingers part my folds. My breath hitched. “Please feel free to make any noise you wish, Veronica. I had this room sound-proofed.” He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss against my opening. “You may come when I say so, not a moment before.”

  I did not have time to respond before his tongue darted out and licked down my pussy. I bucked and his grip on my thighs tightened. His tongue flicked out again, and he began to lap at me. I cried aloud, making small hopeless noises high in my throat. He chuckled against me and found my clit with his tongue, moving over it with slow, languid strokes.

  I could not stand it. I wanted to come so bad, but the pressure kept building inside of me. Each movement of his lips or his tongue brought me into higher and higher realms, but the release never came. I had never climbed this high before, never gone this long with this much sensation without it finding release.

  I shook uncontrollably, and I felt my knees give way, but the horse and my bonds kept my body from moving away from him. He moved away from my clit and plunged two fingers into me. I was so wet and ready, but even still I could feel my body grasp him. “You are so tight, Ms. Delaware,” he said. “It has been a while.”

  I moaned. “Oh, please, sir, let me come.”

  “Not yet.”

  I whimpered. He continued to thrust his fingers into me, and then his tongue was on my clit again, moving in quick, circular motions. I screamed, wanting nothing more than to find an end to this. The pleasure was building so much that it was becoming like pain, but still it kept building, kept layering one against another. “Please, please,” I whimpered, “Please let me come, sir.”

  He did not respond, just kept assaulting me with that skilled tongue of his, moving his fingers in and out, and then his mouth again, eating at me. I screamed against it, and then his mouth moved away and his fingers plunged into me again. “Now,” he growled. “Now, Veronica. Come now.”

  I did. I came screaming, shattering into a thousand pieces. I came for what felt like minutes, wave after wave crashing over me. When it was over, I was left gasping, exhausted and sweating, but he wasn’t done with me yet.

  I heard the rustle and tear of a foil package and then I felt his cock at my opening, his hands on my hips. “Talk to me, Ms. Delaware. Where are you?”

  “Green,” I gasped. “Green, sir.” />
  “What do you want me to do now?”

  I felt him begin to push into me, but it was only a little ways in, just the tip. I tried to push back, but he countered the movement. “What do you want me to do to you now?” He demanded.

  “I want you to fuck me, sir. Please fuck me.”

  He had to fight to push all the way in, I was so tight. It had been a while, but he was also the largest man I had ever been with. He filled me in ways that I never knew I could be filled, and when I thought he had taken up as much space as anyone possibly could, he pushed still further within.

  I squirmed against him, tried to lift my head to look back at him. He growled, “Head down, Veronica.”

  I kept my head down and made small noises until he was all the way inside. We sighed together. “God,” he said. “You are so fucking tight.”

  He began to withdraw. He moved carefully, letting my body acclimate to his size. He pulled himself half way out and then pushed back in. I could feel my muscles begin to loosen and he moved faster. He slapped my ass and I cried out.

  “Don’t come until I tell you,” he growled, his voice unrecognizable.

  Ethan moved with precision, angling himself against me, moving faster now that I had swelled enough to accommodate his considerable size. I could not recall a time that I had felt so filled by someone. Not only filled but claimed. He was marking me with every touch, every slap, every whip, and every order that fell from his lips. I was powerless in his grasp, and within that feeling I fell, lost. All thought fled.

  This was not like the last time I had been with a man. I had called that making love. This was more primal than that.

  Ethan fucked me.

  He slammed into me with enough force that I could feel his hip bones against my ass. I screamed and he continued, moving in and out with such force that I was almost certain he would break me in half. But every move brought me higher, started building that sea of pleasure that I had almost drowned in when his fingers worked inside me. He slapped my ass again and I moaned, the pressure building.

  It was as though I were consumed in fire, burning with all that he was doing to me, with every movement of his hips and every time his cock reached what I thought was the end of me and pushed still further. I cried out, yelled, and gasped with each thrust. His hands encircled my hips, pulling me back against him, and then ran up my sides, his fingers digging into my ribs.