Page 76 of Kneel Before Me

“No.”

Maximus wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t even disappointed. They’d already gone further tonight than he’d ever expected to get with Daphne. The memory of this interaction would feed him for a long time. Possibly forever. He wondered if it would feed her too.

“Daphne,” he said. Her eyes darted up to his. “Our time is up.”

It was true; the hourglass had run out.

She blinked slowly, as if she were waking up from a deep coma. “So?”

“So,” Maximus said. “Will you stay?”

He was daring her to deny that they had something worth staying for. If she really wanted to leave, she would have done so already. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed right here, rooted in place, staring at his cock. Staring at him.

The silence stretched on. His erection was nearly impossible to resist. He had never wanted to touch himself so badly in his entire life. But to touch himself would be to let her win. And this moment was bigger than him. So he simply stood there, staring right back at her, willing her to make a move.

“Yes,” she whispered.

A single word. His salvation. “Tell me what to do, Daphne.”

This time the silence did not last long. This time she raised her chin, looked him straight in the eye and said, “Touch yourself.”

It was the exact same order he’d given her in his bathroom. Maximus wasn’t surprised, and he certainly wasn’t disappointed. On the contrary, he was thrilled beyond belief to have an excuse to do the only thing he’d wanted to do since she stepped into the room. He looked at her face, allowing his gaze to trail along her lips, to her neck, then down her body.

Without another moment’s hesitation, he grasped his cock and began to stroke.

Daphne held his gaze as he touched himself, as if looking him in the eye was more important than looking at his cock. Maximus didn’t care where she looked. He didn’t hold back. He touched himself exactly the way he would if she weren’t watching—exactly the way he did when he was alone in his bedroom thinking about her. His cock was rigid in his hand—possibly the hardest it had ever been—the sensation of stroking it almost more painful than pleasurable. Maximus pretended it was Daphne’s hand instead. He pictured her in front of him, her body pressed against his, her palm rubbing, rubbing, rubbing.

He pictured other things too. He pictured her bent over the desk, her strappy dress on the floor, her ass against his thighs. The thought was enough to take him there, but he resisted. The moment he came, this would all be over. So he drew it out, slowing down and savoring every second of this experience, forcing himself to exercise self-control.

Just when he had mastered his urges, Daphne whispered, “Faster.”

She was going to make this quite difficult, wasn’t she? It was as if she knew exactly how much he wanted to come. Perhaps she did. At this point, Maximus didn’t even care. If she wanted to direct him, he would let her. But only if she played by his rules.

“Come closer,” he said. “And I’ll go faster.”

Always a negotiation between them. Push and pull. It was only right considering the way she’d made Maximus ask for it in the bathroom—how she’d ordered him to sit down before she used three fingers. Daphne’s gaze returned to his cock, as if considering if it was worth coming closer for. Maximus slowed his strokes, letting her see it, showing how it would be worth her while. Eventually, she came closer.

Daphne’s steps were slow. Deliberate. Maximus understood there was a delicate balance to be struck here—if he pushed her too hard, this would all be over. It took every ounce of strength not to reach for her, to pull her closer. Instead he remained in place, stroking slowly, watching her as she approached. She stopped right in front of him.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Now go faster.”

He wanted her even closer. But if she took another step, she’d be on his cock, and Maximus knew there was no chance of that tonight. This was all they had together, and he would have to make it enough. So he went faster.

“Does it feel good?” Daphne whispered.

“Yes.”

She smiled.

“It would feel better if you did it.”

Her smile widened. “I’m sure it would.”

Maximus went even faster. His strokes were short and desperate, focused on the base, his cock like iron in his fist. The ache for release became excruciating.

“Daphne,” he gasped. “I’m going to come.”

“Not yet.”