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Yeah, her first series of slaps were in that area, on his upper thighs, against his cock, but at least she started with easy strokes. She wasn’t delivering pain but sensation. Criss cross over his abdomen, the strips falling away like the caress of herfingertips. Then up to his nipples, creating a shiver of reaction across his skin. Back to the navel.
She gestured to her eyes, pointed to his. She wanted them closed. When he complied, despite a frisson of tension in his lower belly, she moved closer then dangled the flogger’s thick strips gently over his face, his shoulders, his throat, letting him feel the contact on his cheeks, his jaw.
It was soothing. Erotic. Her pace was slow and easy, and he could sense she was getting as much out of it as he was, taking them from the rougher seas of the day into calmer waters with the leisurely play. A dozen skilled Mistresses had taught him the dangers of anticipation. Everything proceeded at their pace and say-so, including whether a session would end with a climax.
Sometimes Skye was seeking something else for herself and him. A sensual pool where he might drift for hours, being insanely okay with his cock staying hard or semi-erect, wanting that climax, but he’d be fine staying on that edge for her. Enjoying the feeling of wanting. Savoring it.
The flogger descended, and she was back to the slap against his flesh. He remembered the way it sounded, a lush fullness when using a flogger like this, versus the sharper sound of one with thinner, shorter strips. She was increasing her force, delivering a sting as she crisscrossed his chest, his abdomen, back to cock and thighs.
She hadn’t given him the tap order to open his eyes. She would when she was ready, but as the sensation and pressure built, he shifted under her touch, a not-right feeling building. He was in the dark, in the silence. He couldn’t see her face. Couldn’t see her reactions. His hands curled and uncurled on the cross’s outer edge. Nothing held him. This wasn’t bad enough to be a safeword situation. If she was getting something out of it, all was good, and his erection said he was fine.
Trust. Was it about trust? He didn’t know. But as the feeling crested, his safeword broke free.
“Motorcycle.”
The flogger stopped, and her palm was on his chest. Waiting. He wet his lips. “Need to open my eyes, Mistress. Need to see you. Sorry.”
At a tap of agreement, he opened them. The constriction in his chest immediately eased, though he was feeling foolish over it. Before he’d lost his hearing, he couldn’t close his eyes unless she ordered it. Closing the eyes to savor sensation was an earned privilege.
Now keeping them open was a necessity. He couldn’t close them. He had to see her.
Her expression said his Mistress wasn’t entirely pleased, which tightened him up again, until she showed him her phone. “You waited too long to do that. I was about to do it for you.”
“Sorry, Mistress. I thought… I had to work through it. I didn’t want to safeword just because it didn’t feel right at first.”
An acceptable explanation. She set the phone aside and stepped back, but kept her hand on his chest, her arm extended, until he met her gaze again, a confirmation that he was good. Then she started working the flogger again.
With his eyes open.
Skye liked how he looked at her. Because he was even more hungry for that visual connection, his blue eyes had a sharper focus.
When she’d had him shut his eyes, she’d intended to order him to open them as soon as she was no longer near his face with the flogger, but she’d wanted to test the theory, see how deepthat need and those layers went, and how much he would push it in himself.
She was satisfied; he had handled it like an experienced sub. As he’d said, he wouldn’t safeword just because something was unexpected or new. He’d given it enough time to confirm it would truly impact their mutual enjoyment of the session.
Which they could now get back to, with barely an interruption in the flow of energy they were building. His skin was reddening under the repetitive attention of the flogger, and she noted the slight flinches on contact that came with increased sensitivity. He enjoyed some level of discomfort and outright pain, his arousal increased by enduring it for her pleasure.
When she at last set the flogger aside, she put her hands on him to stroke the abraded skin. Playing with him a little, she ran her nails over the same terrain, feeling his muscles tighten. She deliberately didn’t look at him, aware of his eyes on her, him absorbing what she was doing, what she was getting out of it.
Her body was as tight as his, just as ready, and she let him feel it in the bite of her claws. Then her teeth, as she scraped them over his shoulder, giving that tattoo another kind of blessing before she moved to his throat, his chest, the left nipple. Her hand dropped to his cock and closed around it to squeeze, her thumb nail probing the slit and earning a jerk of his hips.
Reluctantly she backed off, but it was to retrieve an item from the cabinet she’d never used on him before. A clear gel male masturbator, the opening styled to look like a vulva, the interior textured to give a man a very familiar feel when thrusting into it. She lubed it up generously and then slid it onto his cock. This version had a warming element and could be adjusted to provide a closer fit. As she took advantage of those features, she liked the sparks in his eyes and the ripple through his muscles as he reacted to the slick clutch of the toy. It reminded her of how he responded when she gripped him with her hand.
He gave her a quick nod when it was tight enough. She could tell he wasn’t sure about this. She’d had him jerk off into a condom in front of her before. But this gave her all the control. Retrieving a pair of cuffs from the cabinet, she hooked them to the rings and wrapped them around his wrists. As she did, she lifted onto her toes and pressed her breasts against his chest. He nuzzled her hair, her ear. Gave her a nip with the edge of his teeth.
Bad boy. If it hadn’t been encased in the masturbator, she would have given his cock a sharp slap to tell him so. When she settled for a flick of her nails against his flank, his eyes flashed at her, lips pressing against a smile. She liked his smile, but she wanted to take the cocky edge out of it.
He could snap out of the cuffs if needed. Their purpose was to tell him she wanted to take over, more than usual. When she backed away, she shot him a wicked look and revealed the final piece. A handheld remote.
His jaw tightened. She noted his testicles below the masturbator convulsed, as if his cock had jumped in reaction. Backing up to the spanking bench, she stretched out on her side on the firm surface, bracing one heel on the lower step. The position enhanced the rise of her breasts, the depth of her cleavage, as she slipped open the next two buttons of her blouse. She’d bent her other knee, bringing it up onto the bench, which had inched up the skirt and revealed her black lace panties. When she slipped a finger beneath and gave herself a stroke, then tasted her arousal, a growl escaped him.
Shooting him a teasing look from beneath her lashes, she turned on the remote. As the masturbator began to ripple and squeeze along his length, that growl became a soft oath. His throat convulsed as he swallowed.
“This doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything for you, Mistress,” he managed in a strangled voice.
She bumped it up a notch. The vibration could be spread out along the entire shaft, but it had a separate, focused setting for the pulse directly beneath the cock head. If she pushed that up to its highest level, she could yank a climax out of an erect male in a matter of seconds.
She increased the vibration there, that and her intent gaze telling him she didn’t want words from him right now. His gaze clung to her as she put her hand back into her panties, inserting her fingers inside her slickness. The movement in and out would tell him how wet she was before she withdrew the glistening fingers to show him, and sucked on them again as he groaned.
