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“Omigod, thank you,” I sigh as I get to rest my weight on the whole of my feet. I don’t think I’ll be buying high-heeled shoes for a long time.
He removes the hook from the rope binding my wrists.
“You’re doing good, Priscilla,” he remarks, then narrows his study of me. “I bet you’d make a good sub.”
Yes, I could, I almost voice. It feels like I just did a one-eighty from my earlier belief that I should getlessphysically involved, not more. But if there’s a remote chance that pleasing him will save my life, then I should take that.
“What else would a good sub do?” I ask. “Sorry. That was a question.”
“I’ll allow it because it’s a good question.”
Whew.
“A good sub,” he continues, “makes sure that the Master is pleased. The assumption is always thathegets to come first. The sub must earn her orgasm.”
“That’s chauvinistic,” I blurt.
“It only appears that way because I happen to be the Master. A woman could easily be the Mistress to a male sub.”
I drop my gaze to the bulge at Rafe’s crotch. So I have to get him to come before I can? That shouldn’t be too hard, right?
He sees where I’m looking and, fisting his hand in my hair, he draws me to him. “You want to make me come, Priscilla?”
My words come out breathy. “Yes, Sir.”
He presses me down to my knees. Even though my sexual experience is limited, I find it typical that a guy wants to get off via a blowjob.
He whips out his cock and points it at my face.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask, hoping that he’ll consider that a good enough question for him to allow.
Walking over to the table, he opens a small chest and takes out a condom. Once he has it on, he walks back to me. “All right, Priscilla, make me come.”
I take his shaft between my hands. I have to give the best head of my life because my life could literally depend on it. The condom probably doesn’t help my cause, but it’ll keep me safe, though I won’t care about contracting an STD if I’m dead. Maybe I shouldn’t have had him put on a condom. Let’s just see how this goes.
I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock and start to slide down. He flexes in my mouth. I suck on him as I draw myself back up his length. As I go back down, I try to run my tongue along the underside of his cock. He grunts and puts his hand on the back of my head, urging me a little lower.
At first, I take my time to get accustomed to the action. It’s been a while since I gave a guy head. I try to incorporate my hands, though it’s awkward since my wrists are still bound in rope.
After I’ve gotten into a comfortable rhythm, Rafe twists my hair around his hand and starts pushing me to take more of him. I gag several times and he backs off. I suck harder, hoping that will make him come faster. He grunts. When I relax the suction, he shoves my head down as if he wants me to swallow all of him. I can’t and start choking. He lets me off. Not wanting to lose momentum, I keep my break short and resume the blowjob even though my cheeks are sore and my knees hurt from kneeling on the hard ground.
I try to cup and fondle his balls. He thrusts his hips, and I do my best to keep up. His grunting quickens, deepens. I think he might be getting close. He shoves himself into me, gagging me. I sense his body tensing. I need to come off. My throat’s not used to having something in it. But he holds me in place as my body convulses like I’m about to retch.
His body quivers, and with a sigh, he pulls me off.
Coughing, I fall backward. After I’ve gathered myself, I wipe away the drool I couldn’t keep from falling. That blowjob got a little difficult toward the end, but at least he came. I think.
I watch him pull up his pants. Why didn’t he take off his condom?
“Not bad,” he says. “We’ll finish on the bed.”
My shoulders sag. What is it going to take to make this guy come?
He guides me to a wrought-iron bed with vertical bars for the frame. Unlike my luxurious bed in the Artemisia Room, this bed simply has a mattress with a fitted sheet.
Turning me around, he undoes the rope dress. Next he unties my wrists. Then he has me get on all fours on the bed and put my head through the vertical bars of the headboard. Using the rope, he binds my wrists to the headboard.
He pulls off his shirt, and I drink in the sight of his defined abs. I like the definition of his body. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have a lot of excess fat, but neither is he all swollen with beef.
