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Unable to see his face, it’s hard to know how my concession is received, but I sense it, the air pressing against my skin. And his attention on my body intensifies. Gathering up my arousal on his fingers, I drop my head back and let him at me.
Unhurriedly, he fucks me with his tongue, feasting, stirring my nerve endings into a whirlpool. A finger eases into my arse, then two, pumping, chasing after my release as he grazes a thumb against my clit. I can barely withstand all the sensations. I just rock wantonly against his tongue and touch, balancing as best I can.
With my arms pinned, my chest heaves into empty space, desperate for his mouth there too.
When my release hits I lose all strength. I scream his name, a million delicious feelings gathering in the space between my legs. My quads and hamstrings feel wasted, my core destroyed as I jolt and shudder through a stream of sparkling moments. Max eats up every twitch and tremor, drinks up every shiver. His fingers buried in my arse absorb every contraction.
“Oh, God. That was . . . that was—”
“Beautiful,” he praises, licking me through my release and making me hyper sensitive.
Max slides out from underneath me and helps me get more upright.
“My thighs are burning.”
“This’ll build your stamina.”
I’m still raking in lungfuls of air when he gets to his feet. “You did good, baby. So good.” His fingers graze my cheek. Wait, no—that’s his cock. “How are your arms?”
“Achy.”
“Let’s try something else.”
My breathing stops. “Notthere.”
“Don’t worry. I’m saving that.”
I nod, feeling confident, wondering what Max has in store. His feet track across the carpet, taking him away for a half minute before he returns. He doesn’t explain what he has but I can hear metal hitting metal.
My stomach knots, my head rewinds to Amsterdam. I flex my arms and hands, twisting them, trying to escape, even though my brain is telling me that it’s not the same as before. My hands were never secured like this—only ever above my head, my arms at full stretch. But my heart rate isquick. I’m about to call it all off when Max shows me what he has.
“Do you want to try this?”
His voice is so rich and persuasive. And he looks so hot right now, so into this that I’m sorely tempted.
“It’s lambskin. Ultra soft.”
He rubs the tan material against my cheek and it feels divine. It’s three centimetres wide, and I can’t see a metal chain at all, just a silver clasp that I must’ve heard clinking. “Okay.”
His smile of awareness at my bravery undoes me. “I’m going to give you something to hold if you need to tap out. Just press the button.”
Because my mouth will be full and my hands are tied behind my back. And by the looks of what he holds in his hands, I’ll be unable to move my head.
The cuff is unbelievably soft and comfortable around my throat, Max securing the clasp at my nape. The long strap gets wrapped around and around his fist until his balled hand is level with my neck. I suck in a concerned breath, making sure I can swallow.
A finger secures me under the chin, Max’s gaze burning me like a brand. “Fuck, you look good.” He turns to the mirror. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are.”
I look at my reflection, at me kneeling for Max as he looks at me like a wolf does the lamb.
Then he places something in my confined hands. “Press to stop.”
Calmly, he moves back in front of me, his cock swollen. Pre-cum oozes from the slit and I want it on my tongue. Max doesn’t move or say a word for the next few seconds, and I know it’s because he wants to draw a line. A line that we’re crossing to play a role I’m learning to love.
The empty, icy heart of me has gone, Max chasing it away and replacing it with dazzling, colourful memories. The temporary black-and-white movie of my life has been remade in technicolour, my outlook stronger and more optimistic.
The strap around his fist holds me firmly. With his free hand he grips his shaft, the blunt head pressing against my lips. His voice is guttural when he speaks. “Open your mouth and suck.”
My lips part, my tongue darting out to taste him. Fits and flashes of memory come and go, a memory of a nameless man’s hand around my throat as he hurt me.
