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After he’d seen the defeat when she’d first met with his mother, he’d told her she didn’t need to do this, that his mother didn’t even have to be at the wedding. He wouldn’t have cared. His feelings towards the woman who gave him life had changed drastically since she was almost responsible for the destruction of the woman who gave him a reason to live.
It was important to Ivy he at least tried to mend those bridges. But every time he saw the defeated look in her eyes, the hopelessness, after she’d been near her, it killed him a little bit more.
This morning, the least he could do was ease her anxiety, which was why the playroom was ready and waiting. If she insisted on putting herself through Hell, he should at least give her a taste of Heaven that would linger, even when she sat with his mother.
Such thoughts had circled his mind as he went over the itinerary. The moment he heard the toilet flush in their room, he was on his feet, leaning against the bedroom door jamb, listening as she cleaned her teeth.
“Don’t dress,” he called through after she’d finished with the mouthwash. Her head peered around the door, cheeks already flushed with the blush he loved so much.
“Yes, Master.” She dipped her eyes as she spoke, already sensing his intentions. He stalked towards her, using his index finger to hook the necklace he had locked around her neck, leading her towards the playroom.
“Nervous about today?” he asked, tracing his finger down her jaw as he released the necklace. He circled behind her, pressing his chest against her, his arms circling her waist protectively, slowly creeping lower as he waited for her answer. When she didn’t respond, he brushed his fingers across her thighs, savouring in the shallowing of her breathing as her body moved, melting into his soft touch, making his own hum with need.
He knew his touches were a distraction, that her mind honed in on every sensation and movement, that her body craved him to distraction. And her distraction was exactly what he had in mind. His fingers inched higher, sliding between her legs. His cock hardened, a slight groan stifled on his lips to find her already wet, hungry for him. “Well?” he prompted, sliding his free hand up to capture her throat. God, he loved this woman. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
She shook her head, lips parting to answer, but before she could speak, he slipped his thumb inside her mouth, causing her to groan, a sound that spoke to his libido, his fingers circled her clit a little harder, faster, pulling breaths heady from desire from her sensuous lips. “Mmm, so talkative this morning, I see,” he purred into her ear, angling her against him so his hot breath caressed the place that caused her to arch against him, pressing her perfect ass into his hard cock, ensuring he felt every shiver that rippled through her as she moved, grinding against him and his hand, working herself close. So close.
She bit her lip, a whine swelling in her throat. His touch lightened as he exhaled on the sweet spot just below her ear that stole her breath. He could grant her release, but he wouldn’t, not just yet. With Ivy, anticipation was the perfect distraction.
He felt her body shift, the tension of the day once more starting to surface and increased the pressure of his touch just enough to erase her worries. Why she met with his mother when it made her feel like this he could not understand. No, that was a lie. She was doing it for him, torturing herself for him. But he should be the only one to torture her. His version was a lot more fun than the emotional backlash of time with his mother.
Her body quivered, legs trembling. “Oh, Master, please. Please may I come?” She was his good girl, asking every time she could. She was writhing in his arms now, panting, desperation filling her movements as she begged for permission, yet still used her movements to seek release. Damn, she’d never know how seeing her like this made him feel, how it heated him from within, challenged his control.
A devilish smile crossed his lips as he removed his hand, scooping her in his arms, to lay her on the bondage table. This heavy-duty table had a vinyl padded top. Across the sides were lined with heavy-duty bondage points, ensuring he could secure her any way he wanted. It was called a table, but at seven feet long it could easily be a bed.
As soon as her back pressed upon the fabric she moaned, his weight bearing down upon her. His lips brushed against hers with gentle pressure, gentle enough to disguise the need he felt welling within him, his desire to see her climax. He’d never get tired of seeing it. The flush in her cheeks, the way her back arched and stomach muscles contracted as the pleasure washed over her, causing her eyes to lose focus, her mind to embrace a state of bliss. His lips followed the path of her jaw, down her throat. He felt her swallow, the panting of her quickened breaths a light tickle against his scalp as he moved.
She was being his good girl, remaining still despite the need he felt coiled inside her. She surrendered to his desire. He loved how well she controlled herself, how she’d push down the building orgasm as his fingers stroked her idly in just the right way. “Good girl.” His deep voice vibrated against her skin, and he felt her clench. That his voice held so much power, enough to almost tip her over the edge, was empowering. He brushed his cock against her wet entrance, smiling at her as she resisted the urge to lift her hips to force himself inside her.
Just as he was enjoying her restraint, as he slid his cock across her clit in place of his fingers, he saw the defiance spark. The twitch of pre-emptive movement.
Stepping back, he shook his head. “On your stomach,” he commanded, smiling secretly at the whine that echoed from her lips. He pulled her down the table until her feet touched the floor. Within moments he’d secured her wrists, utilising the bondage points to put her in the exact position he wanted. Arms outstretched to the side, not enough to stretch her uncomfortably, but enough to ensure, when he’d cuffed her ankles to the table legs, she wasn’t going anywhere.
She tugged against the restraints with a frustrated groan as he once more began to tease her. “Now, now, you’re not the one in charge here.” He slid his fingers inside, rubbing against her g-spot until she once more began to quiver.
Her juices coated him, soaking him with her arousal. He love that feeling, the scent of her desire. Removing his fingers, he circled her ass, feeling her tense. He kept his touch light, listening to her breathe, waiting for the moment she relaxed. When she did, his finger pushed inside, stretching the tight muscle, first with one finger, then two. She moaned as he worked his fingers inside her. Occasionally, his other hand would skim her clit, teasing her, keeping her close.
When she felt relaxed enough, he stepped away, grabbing the lube, applying a generous coating to the toy, before dripping it against her ass. She flinched at the touch, despite it being air temperature. “Breathe for me. I want to see this jewel sparking against your sexy ass. It’s going to stay there all day, until you get home. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” She answered through shuddering breaths. It wouldn’t be long now and he’d give her what she needed. But she needed this too. His mother was a challenge. Maybe with this reminder of him inside her, she’d have other things to focus on outside of whatever it was that woman did to cause Ivy to look so exhausted whenever she returned from seeing her.
As she relaxed again, he pressed the small butt plug against her ass, gently pushing it in, his fingers splayed across her lower back, keeping her still as he eased the thick part through the tight muscles until it narrowed, watching with pride as the remainder slipping in with ease as her body tightened around it, bringing the jewelled end to sit perfectly against her ass.
He felt her squirm, relishing in the fact he’d kept her so close to the edge and she’d fought the urge every step of the way.
You’re so fucking beautiful,” he praised, tracing his fingertips down her spine before smacking her ass, leaving the red glow of a handprint as she gasped. She moaned as he spanked her again. Calm, controlled, his motion moving the plug inside her, teasing her until she was begging for him, pleading for him to fuck her.
He grabbed her hips, brushing his cock against her clit, working it back and forth as she pleaded before he finally slid himself inside. She cried out in pleasure as he entered her, trying to use what little motion she had to gain friction, to force him to move inside her.
He could feel the plug inside her, making her tighter, opening them both up to even more pleasure. He pulled back slowly, sliding inside her again at a pace he knew would drive her to the brink of madness with need.
She jerked her wrists, tried to arch her back, push back into him, anything, anything to make him move quicker. But his hand remained splayed against her back, denying her even the slightest movement.
She cried out her pleas, the whimpers and whines leaving her a symphony to his ears, fuel to his lust, but now it was time to deliver. He thrust forward hard, and instantly she was begging to come as he continued to pace. She tried to pull herself forward, away from the friction she’d craved, away from the orgasm he’d not yet given her permission to have.
“Come as many times as you want, princess.” He powered into her, her muscles locking as she clenched around him, screaming like a banshee as all the tension and pressure inside that she’d been fighting against released. The power of her orgasm choked him, milking his cock with such force he joined her in climax far quicker than he’d have liked. Pulling away, he took a breath.
Damn this woman, she could make him come with a look. He was certain of it. “Are you feeling less nervous?” he asked, walking towards the toy cupboard. Her response came after too long, a mumbled um, as he felt the blanket of tension once more descend.
