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“Do not disobey you,” I spit out through gritted teeth, glaring death over my stomach to the amused blue eyes hovering between my legs.
“Number three.” He seems so unfazed. Fuck him.
“Don’t come.”
“Don’t come what?”
“I don’t know!” I scream, thrashing against my binds.
The feel of his tongue swirling circles again stills me, and I melt. If I didn’t feel so crazed and frustrated, my loud whimpers would embarrass me. But then his tongue is gone again. I’m outraged.
“Don’t come without permission. Repeat.”
“Don’t. Come. Without. Permission.” I know I can set fire to the air with the hatred in my glare. He leans over me settling on his hands and knees. His smile is so damn sweet and loving, I feel my anger simmer down.
“Remember them.”
“Yes,” I moan, still pulling against my cuffs.
He watches me as he leans down. My breath is quickening until finally, his lips are on mine. I’ve dreamed about doing this, kissing him, everyday since we met. It’s so much better than I could have ever imagined. His lips are soft and warm. His tongue is urgent and probing as he explores, his moan vibrating through my mouth. I only have enough reach to hold his face, dragging my nails through his low trimmed beard.
His fingers find the folds of my quivering pussy, flicking and massaging my clit. My eyes roll back in my head as shocks of pleasure rip through me and touch my toes. His lips don’t let me go, the kiss deepening as he demands more of me. I’m going to come. I’m going to come. It’s as if he hears my thoughts, because he stops. My entire body shudders as the orgasm that was so close is blocked.
This is how I die. This has to be how I die. Is this edging? He’s going to do this to me again? How many times? I’ll do whatever he wants. Please don’t do this to me.
“Stefan,” I beg, my breasts shaking as my chest rises and falls as quickly as if I’d just run a mile. “Please. Pleeease. Please. Please.”
“Ssh.” He rakes his hands through my hair and grips it at the roots. “Calm down, little cat. I need you to calm down.”
I can’t, and I don’t, but the overwhelming pressure of my orgasm has faded, leaving me feeling utterly deprived and empty.
He moves back down to settle between my legs without hesitating this time. His tongue is the ecstasy that I’ve been missing my entire life as he flicks it from side to side and then around in a circle. I know he’s purposely changing the movement of his mouth to keep me from coming. I know that, and I hate him all the more for it. Just when I get used to the sucking with which he’s now torturing me, he switches again to an up-down motion. I scream, kicking my legs and snatching my wrists pointlessly.
He moves his tongue again in a circle, and yes… yes, I’m going to come. I feel it. I hold my breath scared that if I make any sounds he’ll know, but it doesn’t work. Somehow, he knows. Somehow he can tell, because he stops, fully pulling away and leaving me with the cold air on my wet flesh.
“You son of a bitch!” I shriek, groaning and arching my back. The sudden smack of his hand against my ass makes me jump.
“Watch your mouth. Disrespect me again. I’ll edge you all night.” His threat hangs over me as my skin prickles from the smack. Anything but that. Anything but edging.
“Please,” I gasp, sitting up as far as the chains will let me. “I’ll be good. Please. I’ll do anything. May I please come? Please.”
His eyes somehow darken more as his nostrils flare. He moves to stand at the foot of the bed before slowly removing his clothes.
“Stefan,” I cry, falling back against the mattress. “Pleeease. May I please come?”
My pleas go unanswered as the sound of his clothes falling and the clink of his belt buckle fill the silence. I sit up again as far as I can, eager to see the body I’ve imagined so many times in the late hours of the night. His shoulders are broad and lead to a perfectly sculpted chest, ridged abs, and slim hips with a V so defined my eyes can’t help but follow it.
The length of him reaches forward so far my eyes bulge as he stands hard and pulsing. I don’t have any more time to marvel at the size of him because he climbs back over me. His mouth finds mine again, and I moan, my body humming with need, need to feel that fucking rod that’s poking my thigh.
He sits back, gripping himself and rubbing his tip between the folds of my pussy. I want to beg. I want to promise the heavens and the earth, the moon and all the stars, but I know it won’t do any good. He’s set on teasing me until I die.
His tip pressures my entrance, and then he moves away again. His arms bulge and tense, and his abs ripple as he breaths a little too fast. I can see, now that his clothes are off, how much this is affecting him as well. I can see that he’s not having as easy a time as I thought. But his face is just as calm and patient as before. He presses his tip now slick with my wetness against my entrance again with just enough pressure that for an idiotic second I think he’s actually going to go inside. How stupid of me.
“Is this what you want?” He asks, his voice gentle, but strained.
“Yes, please.” I arch again to no avail.
“In just a second,” he promises, completely leaving my pussy pulsing. There can be no torture worse than this. There just can’t be.
