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“Can you safeword? Try.”
Her safeword came out garbled but understandable. Ambrose’s wicked grin was the last thing she saw before he covered her eyes and tied the scarf securely.
“Look at what we have here.” He chuckled. “A present! Look at all the pretty ribbons.” Here and there, gentle touches came. Fingers, tongue, the tug of teeth, hands sliding over her skin, small pinches on the ass, plucking at her nipples, tickling the piercing between her legs. It was almost as though he’d hired a team of hands to help out. She widened her stance, silently begging for something more. “Mmm. What a pretty little gift.” His hand went around her throat. “Is this toy mine to play with?”
Everly whined, feeling her sense of self slipping. She nodded her agreement. At that point he could have asked her anything, and she would have done it for him. He played with her gently, teasing, making her quiver and shake. Begging noises came, and when they won her no mercy, she fell silent, other than her breathing, which was loud in her ears. His fingers drifted to the cleft of her ass and followed it downward to her bottom hole.
She whimpered and went up on her toes, but he just followed her movements and did what he pleased, sending jolts of electricity zipping through her. He dribbled something down her ass, and he slicked it back and forth then played there. Something was pushed patiently up inside her, and when it was in, he patted the end of it. It felt like a plug. He fiddled with it, and the damn thing started to buzz deep inside her.
“Oh!”
He chuckled in her ear, and she squirmed, trying to find him with her needy body. Stubbled cheeks grazed her thighs, and a tongue flicked over her slit. Fingers opened her wider there, and his tongue sought out her painfully stiff clit, brushing over it with short, teasing touches, toggling her clit ring until her breaths were ragged gasps. When she’d gotten the damn thing, she’d never realized how much evil a man could do with it.
Just a little more . . . If he would just latch onto her clit and suck for two seconds . . .
Then he was gone, and she shrieked in frustration.
“What’s the matter?” His rough voice growled in her ear. “My toy sounds like she’s suffering. But I’m not hurting you, am I, slave?”
“No, Master.” Her words were garbled but understandable.
“So what, then? Do you need to come?”
Fuck, she’d never had to come so badly in her life. “Yesss,” she hissed around the gag. “Pleeeeease, Master!”
“That’s too bad,” he sighed with mock regret. “At one point I thought I could give you multiple orgasms, but you convinced me I was wrong. Now I may not even be able to give you one.”
Fuck. Okay, well, maybe she deserved that for having said it in a bratty moment, but she’d learned her lesson. Really!
The soft touching started again, and she began to scream and cry. She shrieked in frustration, and he laughed out loud.
“Do you think your little tantrums are going to change my mind? You’re my toy, so that means we’ll play my games. Maybe I won’t let you come at all. Do you think you deserve to come, or have you been a bad, bad girl?”
Desperation seized her. He wouldn’t let her come at all? He couldn’t be serious. But what if he was one of those Dominants who got off on days upon days’ worth of orgasm denial? They’d never really discussed it, and she hadn’t marked it on her list of limits, because she’d never thought of it as a serious possibility.
“Please, please, please . . .” The begging turned into a high-pitched cry, and more sobs.
“My poor little princess. What do you need, sweet girl? Do you need me to leave you alone so you can think about this?”
“Nooooo! No, no. Need to come.” She could feel her hot tears prickling, soaking her blindfold, dripping down her cheeks the way wetness was dripping down her thighs. The thing in her ass was gently buzzing away, as though it had all the time in the world. She was so fucking horny her ovaries were blue. Fuck blue balls. Blue ovaries were ten times worse.
What if this wasn’t even turning him on? What if he was just watching the effects of what he was doing and laughing at her responses?
Master was cruel, and this wasn’t fair. He could fix everything and he chose not to.
As he played, her mind started to haze over. That line of thinking snuffed itself out.
Was it her place to question what Master wanted to do to her? Maybe she was a bad girl. Did she deserve to come? She had said terrible things to him. It had been a joke, but maybe goading him so far had consequences she needed to remember.
Master had said he loved her, and he never lied to her. Not like the other men she’d been with. This one told the truth.
Always.
Clinging to that, she let go of everything she thought he should do, and instead accepted what he chose to do. Her body was his. If she believed that—truly believed it—she needed to learn to leave the choices to him.
She relaxed, letting him replace her will with his own.
“That’s right,” he whispered. “Let go and let me take care of you.” She heard some clicks. Was he taking pictures?
