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My eyes fluttered shut at the raw tone in his voice. The tone that conveyed how much he was struggling in his restraints. How much he wanted this. Wantedme.
I was hoping he’d make exactly that request and allow me to use the skills I’d learned, but rarely used, during college when I took regular pole dancing classes. I had never been comfortable enough with someone back then to become so adventurous in our sex life, and Jeremy had never given me the chance when we were together.
I leaned forward a bit more, and let all my weight fall on my knees as I bent my legs until my calves hit my thighs. Flexing my ankles, I angled the tip of one of my heels into the band of my underwear, and very slowly began to straighten my leg back out. Once the waistband of my panties were pulled down to my mid-thigh, I looped the tip of my other heel into them and pulled them all the way down until they tangled around my ankles.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “Look at you, baby. You’re incredible.”
I blushed as my blood filled with his praise, thankful that I was hiding my face.
“Now, turn around and spread those legs for me.”
I flipped around and leaned back, still bracing my weight on my elbows so I could lift my hips. I raised my legs up, keeping them together as I slipped my feet out of my panties and kicked them across the room.
Able to see him now, I watched as his nostrils flared. He looked almost pained—starved— as he laid back helplessly, his hands bound above his head. He looked as desperate to touch me as I felt to touch him. The tension between us was a palpable haze that floated through the air above our heads as we stared into each other.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered. “Touch yourself, and tell me when you’re about to come.”
I whimpered at his demand. I shifted my weight, lifting one of my arms and softly feathering my fingers across my collar bone, down my chest, and over my breasts. I toyed with the lace on my lingerie, and rubbed my thumb across one of my nipples until it hardened, before gliding that hand down my stomach and between my thighs.
I opened my legs and he responded with a low, pained sound as his gaze zeroed in on the sight of me spread wide– all for him.
I drew lazy circles around the center of my thighs, the pressure of my fingers against those nerves had me humming in pleasure. His hips bucked at the sound I produced. “Tell me,” I breathed, “what you’re thinking about right now.”
His own breathing was uneven as he watched me delicately pleasure myself, my gaze fixated on him. He strained as he lifted his eyes from my hand and to my face. “I’m wondering if this is what you do when you’re alone. If you think about me when you’re doing it.”
I moved my fingers in a slow side to my center, pausing briefly before curving my wrist and entering myself. I pumped one finger in, pulling out slowly. “This,” I said as I plunged back in, adding a second finger, “is what I do when I’m thinking of you.”
Dom growled. A desperate, needy, growl.
My skin heated beneath his eyes, and I moved my fingers in and out faster, curving my hand to hit the spot that would drive me over the edge. I could feel my face flushing, my body beginning to tense. Dom’s breathing grew rapid as he watched my face, then my hand, then my heaving chest as the tension inside me grew taut and tight.
I wanted him to watch me when I came. Wanted his eyes glued to mine. I wanted him to see how he made me feel, even when he wasn’t touching me. I wanted him to understand it, because for the life of me, I couldn't understand it myself.
That unquenchable thirst for him.
“Keep going, baby,” he begged. “Faster.” His voice was brutally low. Deep. Rough. It had me coming undone, moving in and out of myself faster and faster.
I was reaching that peak. That wave of pleasure began to crest and I was ready to fall over the edge and crash with it. “Dom,” I moaned, wanting his name on my lips as I came. My head fell back between my shoulders as my eyes closed, and my hand moved back to my clit, circling around it rapidly.
“Stop.”
I didn’t register the words, only the sound of his voice. That carnal, animalistic need in his tone. That deep desire for me that edged his words. I was close—so close—and I–
“Macie. Stop.” His words were a hard command.
My hand flew out from between my legs as if my mind had no control over my movements. Only he did. I let out a frustrated cry as my head snapped up and my eyes met his. He was breathing hard. His face was flushed, his jaw tight, his eyes glowing. Rather than focused on my body now, they were staring directly into my own.
“When I say stop, you stop,” he demanded.“My dick is the only thing you’re coming on tonight. Understood?”
I nodded.
He settled back into the chair, his arms still hanging above his head. “Now, crawl to me.”
I whimpered, slowly sitting up and kicking my feet behind me until I was on my hands and knees. I was only a couple of feet from where he sat, so I took my time inching toward him. When I reached his knees, I sat up straight and stared up at him, awaiting his next command.
“Give me your fingers,” he said gruffly. “Let me taste you.”
I sat up taller, leaning forward so I could rake my hand up the length of his body, delicately skimming across his beautiful bare chest, gliding along his muscles. His mouth dropped open as I reached it, dipping my pointer and middle finger inside. The fingers that had been inside me, and remained gleaming with my own wetness.
