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"You promised to bring your Mistress to orgasm within five minutes," she reminded him softly. "Do as you promised, Marius. And take off the cock harness."
He complied, wincing but enjoying her pleased look at his discomfort. The straps had left marks behind, and she seemed to like those as well. Bending, he captured her breasts in his hands and began to suckle the right nipple. At the same time he angled his hips and pressed against her opening, feeling the give of the moist tissues, readying themselves for his entry.
Fucking heaven. He slid into her, slow, savoring every inch of her slick channel, the squeeze of her muscles on him, the quiver of her body. He angled himself so the stroke of his cock inside would hit the right nerve groups, his pelvis rubbing her clit while he pumped inside of her. But if all it took was the right combination of physical factors, women wouldn't be such a mystery and pleasure.
The removal of the harness had only increased his girth and she moaned with pleasure at the fit. He captured her mouth again, finger tips curving around her neck and descending to stroke the outer swell of her breast, her side, ignoring the more obvious targets like her nipples or cunt.
"I love the way you smell. I love how you walk, the way you wear your clothes. The way you breathe and laugh. I don't have to look at you with my eyes. I close them and know that you're everything in my world...fucking everything."
He'd intended to stay with the practiced things that pleased a woman, things that told her that the man inside her wasn't just fucking her; he was her lover, aware of her at every level. And it wasn't a line; he meant all of it. But he hadn't meant to go so deep. The words were just there, leaving his lips, said and unable to be unsaid, because they were simple truth.
She put her hands on his face, framed it, bringing him down so every point of their bodies were flush against one another, including their mouths as she held hers against his.
"Go over with me," she whispered. "Sweet boy. Don't let me go alone."
She wrapped her arms around his back and he rolled them so she was sitting on him, his feet braced on the floor as he sat upright on the bed and brought her down on him with sure strokes. He could give her his strength. He might give her anything, because she left him no choice.
For the first time in his life, he truly belonged to a Mistress. In a few minutes, after the climax came, that would terrify him, and he would do something stupid to push her away. So he wanted to make this the best damn climax she'd ever had. Within five minutes, that is.
The time reminder gave him a desperate spurt of humor amid the arousal. He put his mouth on her breast, suckling, as she gripped his hair. He kneaded her ass, working her on him. Her pussy clutched his cock, those first ripples of orgasm about to take her. Obeying her command, he let go with her, pressing his parted lips hard against nipple and breast, his forehead against her chest, face held against her bosom by her clutching hands as he took her where he'd promised.
And she delivered him there right with her. God, he wasn't sure there were words for how it felt, his seed spurting inside her cunt, nothing between them. As if the gates of heaven had truly opened, like they said in the songs.
While they were both riding the aftermath, his arms tightened around her. A dozen things started to come to his lips, all of them wrong, all of them spurred by that demon in his soul that told him he couldn't have this, that he was just some toy she was playing with, that he was getting too deep and needed to push her away before he did her real harm...or got himself hurt beyond repair.
"No." She put her hand on his mouth as his lips parted to say the devil knew what. Despite the aftermath of the climax still gripping her, enough that her face looked soft, her lips still parted and eyes a little dazed, there was a sharpness behind that.
She eased off him, and he automatically helped her, steadying her as she made it to her feet, standing between his. "Don't speak and stay there."
She moved to her suitcase, blissfully naked. Their combined release marked her thighs in glistening tracks, making him lick his lips and need hit him hard anew. He was glad she didn't say he couldn't look at her. Not until she returned. "Close your eyes."
He did and she put a blindfold on him. "Put your hands behind your back."
When he complied, she attached a pair of thick cuffs to his wrists and locked them together. The hold pressed the ID bracelet into his flesh, a welcome imprint. "One more thing," she said.
The finger in the hinge of the jaw, anticipating his resistance, but this time he opened up to allow the ball gag to be seated. She buckled it so tightly around his head it cut into the sides of his mouth.
His cock, even spent, reacted to the restraints, to her taking full control. He could feel the spurt of pleasure deep in his gut, in the ripple through all his muscles.
"Good," she murmured. "For the next little bit, you'll simply be. You don't get to make stupid, snarky comments, or lash out at me. I've taken care of that. You can let it go. Come with me."
She put her hand on the cuffs, propelling him to his feet, and guided him to the bathroom. The shower started, her hand staying on him as she probably checked the temperature with the other.
"After I put on your blindfold, I was going to text Dale and ask if we could be an hour late," she said. "He'd already texted me that he needed to switch our appointment to late afternoon. So win-win. Step inside the shower."
She steadied him as the spray hit him, and then maneuvered him so the water jetted over his body, wetting down every side and angle. "Be still now."
She washed him, handling his genitals with practical efficiency and then scrubbing him head to toe as thoroughly as he could do himself. More so. The angry cycle of words, the things that tormented him, had no outlet, so all he could do was focus on her hands, and react to how it felt, being cared for and given no choice to speak or act except in response to her commands.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Her voice had a sensual tag to it and she slapped his cock, starting to rise. "Get your mind on the right things, and you can't control that beast. That's your only job, Marius. Pleasing me, following my commands. That thing inside of you? It answers to me as much as you do, so you let it know that if it fucks with me, I will put it down hard."
She brushed wet lips over his, stretched by the gag. "If it fucks with my boy, I will destroy it utterly. I can see the dark side of the mirror. It won't ever be able to hide from me."
She put her hand on his chest and pushed him into the corner, angling a jet so it hit his shoulder and side, keeping him warm. "Down."
She guided him to sit on his ass, bent legs spread so she could tease his testicles with one questing foot. "You sit there and behave while your Mistress cleans herself. And no, you don't get the privilege of watching. You sit where I tell you and wait on me to want something from you. Other than sitting there."
He really wanted to watch her. If she'd cuffed him in front, he might have tried to lift his hands and sneak a peek from under the blindfold. But she'd anticipated even his smallest misbehavior. He listened to the splash of water, smelled soap and shampoo. She hummed, talked about things she wanted to see and do with him while here. Talked about previous experiences she'd had in the city. All as if having a cuffed, gagged guy sitting in the corner of her shower was the norm.
