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“How could that be?”
“Too obsessive,” he answered. “And then I met Jocelyn…” his voice trailed off. In that unguarded moment he appeared a little lost until he grabbed hold of the feeling lurking in the back of his mind and turned his full attention back to Gwen. “Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” he said. “You’ll wear something excessively slutty.”
Gwen couldn’t wait.
Chapter Fourteen
Jocelyn and Ian left Germany the day after she was whipped. He woke her in a stew about four o’clock that afternoon. In the midst of throwing clothes in a suitcase, he looked at her dumbfound face with an expression of easy mirth. He seemed less dangerous than he’d appeared in days. She was happy for that. But she wasn’t ready for another swift exit.
“Couldn’t it wait?”
“No, darling,” he said without getting upset. He was simply determined and would not be changing his mind. “I’d think you’ve had enough of Germany.”
“You mean after last night?”
He almost looked as if he didn’t know what she meant. But then he smiled with the devastating one that perpetually seduced her. “No, I just think it’s getting too, oh, you know, tedious here.”
Jocelyn could say a lot about her stay in Germany, the word tedious did not apply. But apparently for Ian it did. And she was still Ian’s chattel even though the thought of leaving him was becoming more appealing.
They took the train into France stopping at a small hotel one night, then another the second day. The third day in a row she woke to have him shake her out of bed so they could keep
on moving. For the most part her companion was his jolly self. They took time away from the travel to poke around shops in the villages they visited and eat some delightfully tasty gourmet treats in quaint cafés.
Sex was sweet and easy.
The fourth morning after they left Germany, Ian surprised her with a bouquet of flowers, a French newspaper she could barely read, and a tray of muffins and fresh fruit that slid right down her throat like honey.
When she finished the meal, he laid her back on the bed and melted a chocolate with his tongue on her belly. She giggled all the way.
“I can’t stand this!” she squirmed playfully.
“Oh, you can stand lashes to your cunt and ass and you can’t stand this? I think not!” He was rightfully indignant and kept up tickling her with tongue and chocolates, until she turned over on her side, smeared the melted candy on the bedcovers and had Ian happily engaged in pursing her ass. He pressed his tongue along her cleft from anus to labia. Then he was under her, fondling her, pinching nipples until she shrieked and cried for him to put himself inside her cunt.
“So you want it here?” he asked, with two fingers inside her vagina. “Oh, I can see you’re wet.” He licked the cum juice off. “And sweet too. Almost as good as my candy.”
“Do that more,” she urged.
“Maybe. But I’m in charge.”
“Please don’t torture me, I’ve had enough of that.”
“Oh, no, you haven’t. I’m the man of a thousand tortures. I’ve only just begun to attend to you.”
“But it aches,” she protested. On her back now, she bucked her hips toward his face, hoping he’d move his mouth there. Finding her clitoris with his thumb and index fingers, she was pained to discover that he planned to hold the bud between them while she maintained the awkward thrust out position. “Ooo, ouch, please! No!”
He chuckled. “I love when you protest. It just inspires me.”
That quieted her, but her change didn’t stop Ian. He did start stroking her cleft with his other hand, running three fingers deep inside her vagina before pulling out and moving on.
“Please, Ian,” she wailed again. The spasms in her belly were getting stronger. Some sharp, some long and deep. Then there was that long invigorating moment when he pinched her clit tighter still, applying more pressure a bit at a time. Her body heat shot high. She was sweating as though she was sunbathing on hot sand. She grabbed the covers at her sides and pushed her groin higher to him, hoping that just for one tiny tiny minute he’d take the bud in his mouth and suck.
Suddenly he pulled his fingers off creating a spike of sensation that shot like a bullet through her body. Her poor clit was left throbbing and unsatisfied when that spike ceased.
“Now, come in me now!” she groaned for him. Having seduced him with such a wildness of energy, Ian finally knelt between her wide open thighs and inserted the erection into the warm purple opening.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she screamed. The orgasm ripped a wide path of convulsive spasms through her groin. Ian fucking her brusque and deep followed her finale. The man could scream like a whore, or grunt like an animal, and this sound was one in-between the two.
They panted afterwards as though they’d run five miles. Sweat mingling with sweat made them stick to the sticky sheets. Happily exhausted Jocelyn lapped the salty tang from his shoulders and then went down to his limp dick to kiss it thank you.
