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After a minute of play, my nipples were two stiff, aching peaks. When his hands slid away and gently stroked over my belly, a surge of need fluttered in my pussy. I felt goosebumps break out on my flesh when his fingertips trailed lightly over my ribcage and then between my breasts before he traced the outline of the areola on each breast with the soft tip of his finger.
The ache that was pooling in my belly began to settle lower between my thighs. Both of his hands cupped my breasts and then began massaging them. In between the gentle tugs and squeezes, a finger would circle my nipple, teasingly close, without ever touching it.
Just when I thought that I couldn’t take anymore, his fingers plucked at my intentionally neglected nipples. He wet his fingers and then focused relentlessly on them, flicking them with his thumb, rubbing, pinching, and sometimes twisting. Slow strokes became increasingly faster, soft pinching became firmer and light twists became stronger until I was squirming in his lap.
My breaths were coming out in shaky puffs of air and I was occasionally making a humming sound without meaning to. Could I orgasm from nipple stimulation alone? The agony of need between my legs made me think it might be possible.
When I was sure that I was one pinch or tweak away from exploding, he’d stop. Instead, his fingers would track the insides edges of my bra or go back to tracing my areolas. He wouldn’t give me long to regroup before he went back to mercilessly arousing my nipples until the pressure grew again. Each pinch sent a rush of sensation throughout my body. He was edging me with nipple play.
“Your tits are gorgeous.”
God, I liked this so much. In my imaginings, I thought he’d just tell me to strip, restrain me, and then fuck me right away. I liked this softer side of him; I’d never seen it before. This side of him was even more dangerous to me than the dominating side.
I’d never had so much attention paid to my breasts for so long, and Bash was incredibly good at it. It was hard to sit still. He put a hand on my hip to still my wiggling ass. Mindlessly, I pressed back into him and felt his hard length pushing against me. Oh, God. I wanted it.
I didn’t even realize that I’d reached behind and pushed my hand against the front of his jeans.
He hissed. “Christ, Lacey. Don’t touch my dick or I’m going to put it inside you. I’m not used to all this foreplay.”
I removed my hand but groaned with frustration. “That’s what I want. Your cock.”
He grunted. “Sit on your hands.”
“Yes, sir.” I slid my hands under my thighs.
“Actually, stand up and take those pants off.”
I stood up and kept my back to him while I took off my pants. I made quite a show of it, bending over and wiggling my hips sensually as I lowered my pants and whisked off my socks. My black thong matched my bra. The back of it wasn’t that exciting, only two straps coming out of the tiny triangle above the cleft between my ass cheeks, but the front was a pretty patterned see-through mesh adorned with cute little bows. I stood still, tingling with anticipation as I imagined his eyes on me.
“Turn around, Lacey.”
I turned around and watched his green eyes devour me, diffusing a heated sexual energy into the air.
His voice was gruff. “You’re a fantasy come true, Lace. You look so fucking sexy.”
My body instantly responded. A flush crept over my skin. Guys in bars handed out compliments like candy. I was used to hearing them, but Bash actually sounded like he meant it.
He leaned forward and took my hand, pulling me over to him. This time, I sat on his lap facing him with my knees straddling his legs.
Intensity swirled around us. I desperately wanted to kiss him. Touch him. Rip off all his clothes so I could see him. But he was in charge, so I waited for his command.
His hands were resting on my hips. “Slide your panties aside. Let me see your pussy.”
“Yes, Sir.” I sounded breathy.
I hooked a pinky into the side of my panties and dragged them aside, exposing my pussy, but when I looked up, he wasn’t looking at it.
He was watching me with a quizzical look on his face. “Are you calling me sir?”
“Yes, Sir?” I hesitated. “Do you want to be called something else?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, how about my name?”
I shook my head slowly. How could I explain this? “No, it needs to be different. It’s only for when we do this and it needs to be something that indicates your authority. It helps me get into the right head space to be submissive.”
He ran a hand through his hair. It was the first time he seemed uncomfortable about doing this.
“I know it seems weird at first. You don’t like Sir? It’s a common one. I don’t think Master really fits with our dynamic. We could do Dom, King, or... Daddy.”
