Page 84 of Making Over Maris

“No.”

He stiffened, groaned as her hot mouth enclosed him. She lapped and sucked, drawing insanity upon him. He clenched his balls to hold back the aching stream of jizz clamoring to escape. Delight and anguish twined in his gut.

She released him with a plop. “Bend over.”

He hesitated. Because he knew what she intended.

“Bend over.” She raked her fingers through his hair and pressed his head down until his nose scraped the carpet. He quivered. Quaked. Waited. Patiently.

But not too patiently. Anticipation racked him.

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Maybe she’d already had it laid out.

Something wet pressed against his asshole. Lube. Followed by something cold and slick. It was all he could do not to squawk. Because he knew what it was. Page seventeen was one of his favorites. It showed a man bent over on himself with a large vibrator wedged up his ass—

He did make a noise as she pushed the rod in, some feral, guttural groan. Thank God it wasn’t an enormous vibrator like the one in the photo but still the invasion was unnerving. It filled him uncomfortably and pressed against a tender spot, sending frissons of elusive pleasure dancing through him.

He nearly lurched away when she turned it on but he didn’t. He locked his muscles and held himself in place. As the tormenting tool kicked into gear, a responding buzz echoed in his head. Delight skewered him. Waves of love, absolute adoration for his Mistress, for Sara, bubbled through his soul.

“Do you like that?” Her whisper danced over his ear.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I knew you would.” She tweaked a nipple. He hissed. “Kneel up.”

He hesitated, didn’t think he had the strength, not with his hands behind his back. Not with those delirious sensations rocking him from stem to stern. He could barely move. Had trouble remembering to draw a breath.

“Kneel up, Jack.” She put her hand on his shoulder and levered him back into position. “Do you want to come?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress.”

She chuckled. “Too bad. You need to hold it in. Because I have plans for that cock later. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He left off the “Mistress” on purpose and was disappointed when she missed his deliberate sedition.

But not for long.

She distracted him with a soft tickling sensation over his shoulder. “Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

This time she did smack him. But not with the paddle. With a flogger. Multiple trails scored his skin simultaneously. He could tell it was a small one but that didn’t diminish the sting. A shot of pure carnal lust raged through him. She smacked his ass again. And again. And again, from different angles, finding new flesh to score. Heat rose with each lash. The sensations curling through him, the score of each flail, the throbbing in his ass, the ache of his cock—it was all almost too much.

A familiar pressure built within him. He tried to force it back down, control it. Ride it.

She’d told him not to come. She had plans for his cock and holy crap he really wanted to know what those plans were.

But when the flogger landed directly on his cock with no warning and no-holds-barred, he lost it.

He came.

Exploded.

Erupted.

Bliss cascaded as jet after jet of burning cum flooded from him.

And all the while, she whipped his cock. Whipped it into a frenzy.

It was fucking sublime.