AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Did he?" The words came out rough and strange. His fingers caressed her shoulders, then came forward, slipped the frogs of the diagonal front-closing neckline of the cheongsam. One. . . two. . . three. The fold of fabric dropped forward, half exposing her breast. With a deft hand, he unfastened her front-closing bra. He was methodical and decisive about it, while she was paralyzed.
"We're where people could see us. What are you - "
"Yes, we are. But I haven't given you permission to speak. " She should have been startled, infuriated. Instead, she was starting to shake.
He'd opened her dress like he had every right to do so. Like a Master who wanted to fuck his slave. His hands, capable of sending currents of pleasure up and down her nervous system, were pulling up the skirt on either side of her hips. She heard him mutter a sensual expletive, an explosion of breath as he saw the garters, the thong underwear. What he might have commanded her to wear when she was under his mentoring. A mentoring that was supposed to be over. A lie that apparently was fooling no one, not even herself.
"Why did you dress this way?"
She wanted to deny it. His breath was hot on her skin at the point of her neck again.
And oh, God, his teeth were lightly holding her, his tongue now stroking the sensitive bone.
"Speak to me. "
"I. . . liked putting it on, thinking about you seeing it. " She'd been her own worst enemy, increasing her sexual frustration by doing things that only reminded her of how much she wanted to be near him. Then he had to appear and discover this.
His thumb slid under the thong, caressing her anus as his other finger gently dipped into slippery heat between her legs. He rubbed his knuckle through her wetness, apparently enjoying the feel of it. She shuddered, her hips rocking.
"Be still. Be very, very still. You're a statue in my garden, every curve kissed by sun and moonlight. " His lips followed the crescent line of her shoulder. Her hands were clenched on either side of the English teapot with yellow daffodil patterns and she could not let go, could not move. All her senses were riveted to his voice, every muscle aware that it existed to serve his Will. Her logical mind and her control were both gone as if they'd never been. In the space of a heartbeat, she'd given everything to him.
All great Masters and Mistresses knew instinctively when the gates fell. When they held in their palm the most fragile part of the sub's soul, beating frantically like a heart.
She now understood the look she'd always been unable to fathom in his eye at The Zone, why she'd always
avoided him. He'd known he could have this from her.
"Think about those bronze sculptures. . . " His voice soothed her surge of panic.
"How the artists focused on the lines of the body, keeping the lines simple to bring out the life in the art. It's in their very stillness they burst with the power of sensuality. Like you, Marguerite. Absolutely still like this, by my command, you're a Goddess. " He caught the teapot trembling in her wet hand with one of his, eased it down to the counter. Then he brought the skirt up, bunching it at her waist. When he unfastened his trousers, he gave her no time to think before he tore the tiny strap at the leg of her panties, making them drop uselessly to the floor. Cupping his hand over her front, over her mound, he pushed her back into him, into a cock that eased as naturally into her as the knife had sunk into Natalie's moist birthday cake.
"Caress your cunt around my cock, Marguerite. I want to suck your taste off your fingertips. "
She reached down, found her wetness between his fingers, the wonder of the velvet hardness of him penetrating her body. When she caressed them both, she heard his groan against her neck, felt the eager shove of him deeper into her body.
She couldn't help the guttural sound of pleasure from her own lips, the admission that her body ached for him. Clamping down on his cock, drawing him in, she welcomed each stroke as he slowly drove into her, withdrew, drove in again. His hand over her mound stroked her clit while the other glided up her body. Palm flattened against her sternum, his thumb traced the crease beneath one breast that felt heavy with need in his hand. Two fingers played in the tender pocket at the base of her throat. His thighs were hard and sure against the back of hers, lean muscle and heat pressed from her ass to her shoulders.
When she reached up, his mouth seized her fingers, sucking the arousal off them.
Once he freed her fingers, she caught his shirt at the shoulder, her other hand around the side of his neck. She felt the rasp of his jaw against the baby-soft skin on the inside of her forearm as he bowed his head alongside hers. His breath was hot on her shoulder, her neck, the upper slope of her breast. His fingers and cock worked together in single purpose so she could not deny the man that commanded them. Commanded her.
"Come for me, angel. "
As soon as the words came forth, before she could thrust him away, her body exploded, the climax tearing through her, relieving the ache of not having him for the past several days, the thing Chloe had described as summer love. This felt more like fulfillment for all the seasons, including something to warm her in winter.
As her pussy rippled along him, she felt his own release. His fingers dug into her, his strokes sure and strong, driving her down to her elbows on the counter. His body bent over hers, covering her, holding her as his hips pumped against her sensitive buttocks. Her thighs widened, soft whimpers coming from her lips as aftershock after aftershock drove her hips up against him.
At length he slowed but he did not pull away or out. His large hand brushed over her damp back. Stroking her hair off her left shoulder, he laid his lips on that spot.
Tasted her, caressed her with his mouth, his hands running down her sides over her bare hips and breasts, their tops unencumbered by the bra. When he drew out, the pressure of his hand brought her up with him. She felt him fasten his trousers before he took the damp cloth from the counter sink, pressing it between her legs before she could protest.
"Ssshhh," he said. "Just be still and lean back against me. " Her arms somehow found themselves back up around his neck as he stroked between her legs, cleaning his seed and her climax off her thighs and the smooth folds of her sex. She pressed her face against his throat, watching him bend his head to the task, the facets of his burnished gold eyes, the sensual set of his mouth.
"I've never had a boyfriend. "
"Haven't you?"
She hadn't even realized she'd spoken aloud. "Well, I mean, a lover. "
