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My heart rate shot up. I held each cold iron pole tightly as instructed. His lips met mine and I eagerly let his tongue slip in and explore. Gentle kisses. Misleading, because below his cock rested on my mound. It hardened with each nip of his teeth on my lower lip and delicate caress of his hands.
I spread my legs, opening up that vulnerable space and inviting him in. I didn’t care about condoms. My resolve disintegrated. He ground his cock agai
nst my mound then rocked slowly up and down. With each swing, he dipped lower, brushed the hood of my clit up and knocked my tender nub with accuracy. The exquisite torture, well directed and exact, sent waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of my body.
His hands, mouth and cock all worked in a devastating combination. An electric pulse buzzed and tiny contractions spun out from my overstimulated clitoris.
He grazed his teeth against an earlobe. “Don’t come until I tell you.”
I arched my back, pushing up against his relentless erection. “I can’t hold it.” I panted, pained by his torment.
“You will. This is a punishment fuck, remember?” He spoke with a delicious severity. I wanted to obey him, but my body mutinied, driving me closer to the edge.
I shook my head and kept my eyes shut. I couldn’t possibly look at him after that statement.
Stefan shifted downward, trailing his unshaven chin across my heaving bosom, prickling me, and with a mammoth thrust, he rose and accelerated into me. I shrieked as he penetrated me. Now I would have to trust him—he’d rammed his cock deep to my cervix.
My orgasm tottered on the brink. I’d never held back before. Micah never cared whether I came or not. I now realized how unimportant it had been to him. If I failed Stefan, what would he do to me? Did it matter? “I can’t hold it,” I said breathlessly. “Please, let me.” How right he’d been. I begged pathetically. “Please, don’t stop.”
He withdrew and returned to teasing my poor clit with his cock. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him lower. He consumed a pert nipple whole with his mouth, using the sharp edge of his teeth to catch hold of it. I arrested myself, keeping motionless as he toyed with my nipple, raising the little pinnacle higher. Whimpering and crazed with lust, I opened my eyes and viewed the man who seemed intent on taking me to the edge of my sexual abilities.
Far from being uninterested in my predicament, he seemed fixated on watching me—observing my every reaction to his sensual fuckery.
My lower lip trembled. “I’m going to come.”
He opened his mouth wider and sucked on my breast, unhindered by my weakening resolve. Letting go, he stared straight at me. “There will be consequences. I haven’t said you can yet.”
Oh, heck. I wanted those consequences. If they were as thrilling as this, bring them on. I squirmed one last futile time. He moved faster and leaned his weight into the punishing pace. My legs gave out with the tension in my calves. Above my head, my forgotten hands were going numb clutching the poles.
He paused, dragged his cock down between my folds, and I held my breath, knowing what was coming next. He plunged to the hilt again, and I let loose a silent scream.
The orgasm ripped through me. I bucked and cramped as every excited nerve in my body responded in unison to my contracting pussy. My heartbeats pummeled my breastbone. On the orgasm rippled producing an endless Stefan-induced climax. Throughout, he moved about me, kissing my breasts and burying his head in my tangled hair. I scarcely sensed him in my state of undoing.
Eventually, the spasms halted. I relaxed my hands, unclenching them. Stefan sat astride my pelvis, fingering his erection. He hadn’t come—just as he’d promised—but I had. I chewed my lower lip. “Whoops.”
“My little Mausi failed her punishment fuck.”
The whites of his eyes glinted. He pressed his lips together, contemplating me as I writhed underneath him. The sight of his stern face didn’t scare me. Another rush of excitement grew from my exhausted belly. Where the hell did all this energy come from? I should be tucked up in bed, fast asleep.
“Stefan?” I fluttered my eyelashes.
“Don’t play me. You will fail.” He sounded like the comic book hero about to slay the baddie, his faint German accent embellishing the role.
I grinned, weakly. “I thought I did quite well…”
He locked his hands onto the horizontal pole of the headboard. I gulped as he planted his knees on either side of my arms and his resplendent erection touched my chin.
“You owe me a blow job.”
The soft growl sent shivers down my spine.
“Yes.” I’d offered it to him and teased him instead. Tit for tat. My tease, his tease. Would I repeat it, or do as he asked? I opened my mouth and swallowed him.
Such a huge cock to accommodate. His occupation required me to gape my jaw wide. The bulbous tip struck the roof of my mouth and slid down my throat. I gagged and, to my relief, he withdrew until my reflexes were untroubled.
I created a vacuum about him with the seal of my moistened lips and sucked, drawing in my cheeks. Being a clarinetist had advantages—a strong jaw and facial muscles. I found my rhythm and he shuddered. I coiled my arms around his raised thighs and gazed upward to his broad chest. He tossed his head backward. He seemed to be lost in his own world of bliss.
Behind him, I thrashed my legs, unhindered by weight or pressure. I loved the sense of being pinned under him and forced to suck him. I’d no doubt, if I became distressed, he would release me. His cock twitched in my mouth—the warning sign of an impending orgasm.
