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I couldn’t stifle a moan when he started smacking my backside every so often.
“You’re so damn wet.” He slid a finger inside me. “Going to feel so good to push my way inside.”
But he didn’t stop. He kept tapping and smacking until I was desperate for something. Anything. I fought to keep from grinding against the table and bit the inside of my cheek when he slid two fingers deep inside me.
Unexpectedly, the cane lightly struck my ass four times and I groaned.
“Let me hear you, Abigail.” The cane tapped softly along my upper thighs. “Don’t keep anything from me tonight.”
He went back to spanking me and I thought he wasn’t going to use the cane anymore when it came down harder across my ass. I grunted in pleasure.
“Not any harder than that,” he said.
Knowing that made the few strokes that followed even more pleasurable because I didn’t have any fear of them. My need for him to take me grew and nearly exploded when he started playing with my clit.
“Damn, you’re soaked.” He slapped my ass. “So wicked. So ready to be fucked.”
I whined. “Please, Master.”
“No.” The cane landed again and immediately he pumped two fingers in and out of me. My hips jerked. “Who determines when you get fucked?”
“You do, Master.” I hoped he decided soon. I almost begged him, but he shifted his fingers and all I could think about was keeping myself from orgasm. “Oh, shit.”
“Not yet,” he warned. “Come without permission and I will turn this into a punishment session.”
The evil bastard continued pumping his fingers and I panted in time with them.
“Oh, oh, oh, fuck, oh.” I fisted the blanket.
He slowed a bit. “I love to watch you squirm. Caught between obeying my order not to come and your body’s need for release.”
He pulled his fingers out and ran them across one of the lines left behind by the cane. The feel of cool wetness against my heated flesh almost sent me over the edge.
“Like that, naughty girl? Because I sure as hell do. Makes me so damn hard seeing my marks on your ass.”
I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer. To help, I started whispering the German alphabet backward.
“In fact,” he said, not mentioning my urgent murmurings, “I’m going to take you from behind, so I can see these pretty marks while I fuck you.”
Please, oh, please, oh, please.
He chuckled and I realized I’d spoken out loud. “I’m going to carry you to the bedroom and then I want you on your hands and knees on the bed.”
“Thank you. Yes, Master.”
He scooped me up and carried me to bed. While I got into position, he stripped out of his remaining clothes and stood in front of me.
“See this cock?”
I licked my lips at the sight of it. “Yes, Master.”
“I’m going to fuck you with it. Brace yourself on your forearms so I can do a thorough job.”
I whimpered at his words, but dropped forward. He moved behind me and positioned my legs a bit wider.
“Look at this greedy pussy.” He slid his thumbs inside, spreading me. “So hungry for its Master’s cock. Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait any longer.”
His thumbs left, but in their place I felt his cock inch slowly inside me. He entered with slow, small thrusts, never making it in completely.
Damn it all. Just do it already!
“So damn needy,” he said, and I realized I’d been pushing my hips toward him. He gathered my hair in one hand and pulled back as he thrust hard, settling himself inside completely. “There we go. Take it.”
“Yes,” I answered in a half hiss, half moan. “Please. More.”
“Patience.” He waited a second and drove himself into me. He bottomed out and gave his hips a roll, hitting damn near every erogenous spot I had.
“Oh, God. Master. Fuck!”
He rolled his hips again, my hair still firmly held in his hand. “I like riding you this way. Your pussy impaled by my cock. Thrusting into you and looking at the marks my cane left. There’s just one thing . . . Can I go deeper?”
He pulled out and thrust back into me. I could feel him press against my butt, but he lifted his hips and with a forward push managed to get more of his cock in. I moaned in pleasure/pain.
“Ah, yes, I can,” he said, sounding quite pleased.
“Oh, shit!” I gasped, balancing on the edge.
“Need to come?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Come for me.” He moved his hips hard and fast.
I bit the sheets as he worked his way in and out, trying to hang on just a little longer. But he slipped a finger between our bodies to tease my clit and with his next thrust, I pushed against him and let my release take over. I think he meant to hold off his own climax, but as soon as mine started, he let out a strangled cry and followed.
Exhausted from travel, party, and the massive orgasm, I collapsed flat on the bed, breathing heavily.
“Fucking hell,” he said, breathing just as hard and joining me on the bed.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed as we stayed that way, entwined together in bed. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair and I think I dozed for a few minutes. Always in the back of my mind I warned myself not to get too comfortable since he said I’d be sleeping on the floor. I wasn’t ready to head that way yet.
“I have a question, Master.”
“Mmm.” His eyes were closed and his reply was that of a thoroughly satisfied man and I smiled, pleased I had made him that way.
“Who is Charlene?”
“No one you should waste time thinking about.”
“I didn’t like the way she looked at you.”
He turned his head and opened one eye. “I don’t particularly care for it either, but I know who and what she is and she’s nothing to me.”
He closed his eye again as if saying the conversation was over. But it still continued in my head. I didn’t like the woman. There was something about her that seemed dangerous, for lack of a better word. But Nathaniel probably had it all under control.
A few minutes later, he leaned over and kissed me. “Go on and get your shower. I’ll take one when you get out.”
Not quite ready to leave the bed, but knowing I’d feel better after I washed, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I turned the water on as hot as I could stand and took a long shower. The bathroom was completely filled with steam when I got out.
Nathaniel had hung a long silk gown on the back of the door while I was bathing. I smiled, thinking that if I had to sleep on the floor, at least I’d look good doing so.
I dried my hair and brushed my teeth before heading back to the bedroom. As expected, he’d taken the thick pad from the dining room table and made a small but comfortable-looking pallet.
It’s just a way to reinforce roles, I told myself. I’ve had difficulties the last few weeks.
He looked all sorts of sexy sitting on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t put his pants or shirt back on; he’d simply tugged on his boxer briefs. His lip quirked up. “Leave me any hot water?”
I held up my thumb and forefinger so they almost touched. “Maybe a little.”
He crooked his finger. “Come here.”
The gown swished this way and that as I made my way toward him.
