by Brynley Bush
“Just a minute.” I go over to the fireplace, lift the big, square, ornately-carved mirror that is propped on the mantle and carry it back to where she is sitting, standing it up against the wall in front of her so she can see her reflection in it.
“I want you to see what I see,” I say softly as I stand behind her, trailing my fingers lightly over her face. Even in the firelight, I can see her color rise as she blushes at the sight of herself obscenely splayed open. Who knew Ariana McKnight could actually be shy? This is going to be even more entertaining than I thought. I sit down on the sofa across from her.
“I left your hands untied for a reason. I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself.”
She turns stricken eyes to mine. “I…I can’t,” she protests.
“Of course you can. And you will. To please me,” I add.
Her eyes turn back to her reflection in the mirror and she colors prettily. She moves her hand hesitantly up to one breast.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Pretend it’s me. Grab your nipple.”
She tentatively holds her nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
“That’s not how I do it,” I scold reprovingly. “Squeeze it. Good. Now flick it. Hard, baby; I want you to feel it.” She flicks the now-hardened bead with enough force that she moans. “Good girl. Squeeze it again. Now keep squeezing and pull it away from your body. More. More!”
I smile as her body arches off the chair. “Good. Let go.”
She does, gratefully sinking back into the chair.
“Now trail your hand slowly down over your stomach. All the way down. Good girl. Feel how wet you are for me.”
She hesitates.
“Ari!” I say her name sharply, keeping her head in the moment and her focus on me. “Show me how you make yourself come.” She self-consciously touches herself, her finger sliding between her slick lips, her eyes closing as she finds a rhythm.
“Open your eyes, Ari,” I command her softly. “Watch yourself.” She agonizingly lifts her eyes to her reflection, but her lips are parted and her breath is coming faster. “Slip a finger inside of your sweet little cunt. Is it hot and wet for me? Show me.”
Her fingers are glistening. My cock pulses in response.
“Good. Now two. Move them in and out slowly. That’s it. Fuck yourself with your fingers.” She complies with my request, starting slowly but gaining momentum as her body begins to respond. When her hips are undulating in the chair, I finally get up and step forward, stopping her with my hand on hers. I raise her fingers to my lips and slowly…deliberately…lick each one clean.
“Oh god,” she says, her voice strangled.
“There’s one rule tonight.”
“What's that?” she asks breathlessly.
“Every orgasm you have will come from me. Do you understand, gattina? You are mine tonight. All of you. Even, or I should say especially, your pleasure.”
Her mouth is a tiny “o” of surprise. Her eyes widen as I pick up the last piece of rope and pull her wrists behind her. The back of the chair only comes as high as her shoulder blades, so I can easily tie her wrists together behind the chair so that she stays comfortable. At least physically…
“You okay?” I ask, checking in with her.
She nods. “I thought you’d be challenged by the lack of, um, toys and equipment like they have at Five Pines, but you seem to be pretty resourceful.”
I smile. “There’s no such thing as a challenge for a Navy SEAL.” I test the ropes to make sure she can’t move. “Besides, I brought home the complimentary toy bag Gavin gave me last night.”
“Oh.” Her eyes are wide as her gaze falls on the bag at my feet.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her with a wolfish grin. “I’m definitely going to push your boundaries tonight, gattina.”
I fucking love the way she shudders at the thought of that—that being at my complete mercy tonight turns her on.
I pull out a blindfold and tie it over her eyes. My brave and bad-ass girl suddenly looks vulnerable and uncertain, which is exactly how I want her. I slip my thumb into her mouth and she bites the pad with sharp little teeth as she sucks it erotically. Ah, maybe not that uncertain.
I leave her there for a few minutes as I move about the cabin, pouring a glass of whiskey and gathering what I need, all the while letting her wonder what I’m doing. There’s nothing better than a good mind fuck for a smart girl like Ari. Her imagination does almost as good a job of torturing her as I will.
When I come back to stand next to her, she’s trying not to squirm, and I know she can feel my presence next to her. I hadn’t intended to flog her again—she’s had enough of that heady cocktail of pleasure mixed with pain for today—but tied to the chair like this, spread open and completely available to me, her pussy lips glistening and her nipples taut and straining—I can’t resist. I pull the small, soft suede flogger from the bag and flick it against her breasts several times, enjoying her little gasps as the soft ends make contact with her stiff nipples. When her breasts are heaving, I aim between her spread legs, gently striking her pussy a handful of times as her thighs tremble.
Then I drop the flogger, pour a little warm oil into my hands and place them on her body, massaging every inch of her skin with firm, sensuous strokes until she’s purring. I lift the glass of whisky to her lips.
“Drink,” I order.
She opens her mouth, obediently taking a sip of the amber liquid.
I take an ice cube from the glass and hold it over her breast until one perfect drop forms and falls directly onto her rosy nipple. She jolts in the restraints. I smile at the way her nipple puckers as I scrape the hard edge of the ice over it before moving to the other one.
“Fucking bastard,” she murmurs, but her curse lacks any conviction.
With her chin in my hand, I squeeze her lips into a pout with my fingers and kiss her hard. “Watch your mouth sweetheart, or I’ll gag you.”
She smiles at that, but is silent as I slowly drag the ice down her torso and over the sweet mounds of her breasts again, my mouth following the path the cold trail of ice leaves. I circle her navel and proceed lower as she starts to struggle a little. I tongue her pussy a few times, licking her clit lightly to warm her up and get her ready for what I have planned. She slowly relaxes. Then I pull back the hood of her clit and rest the ice cube on her tiny little pearl. It’s so cold, the feeling so intense, that she shrieks as she tries to squirm away from it, but of course she can’t move at all.
“Move it, Marc! Please! It’s so cold.” Her voice is tinged with sweet desperation.
“Take it for me, sweetheart. In a second you’re going to come so hard.”
She shakes her head no, but I can see her stomach already tightening as the orgasm comes up fast on her. Holding the ice in place with my thumb, I slip my warm tongue into her pussy. She screams as the orgasm ravages through her, swift and hard, her pussy rippling with the sudden force of it. As the tremors start to subside, I suck what’s left of the ice cube into my mouth and place my tongue on her clit, an intense contrast of hot versus cold, and dammit if she doesn’t come again.
My cock is throbbing watching her come for me twice in a row, and I’m suddenly desperate to feel her mouth on me. I quickly untie her and shift her sideways in the chair so that her knees are hooked over one of the arms and her head is dangling over the other, the upholstered arm supporting her neck. I press my cock against her lips.
“Take me in your mouth.”
She eagerly complies, opening her mouth as I thrust my cock into it. Now that her hands are free, she reaches up and grabs me with one hand, using it along with her lips and tongue to caress and stroke and suck me.
“Put that other hand to work,” I say. “Hold your pussy open so I can see how wet you get making me come.”
She shakes her head slightly without releasing my cock from the sweet heat of her mouth.
“Will you do as I say, gattina, or are we finished here tonight?” I ask softl
y.
With a growl of protest from her throat that reverberates along the entire length of my shaft, she tentatively spreads herself open with two fingers.
“Good girl,” I say, knowing it makes her uncomfortable to comply with my wishes. But that’s what tonight is about. Tonight I’ll settle for nothing less than her total surrender.
I fuck her mouth and she opens her throat to greedily and enthusiastically accept me. She occasionally pulls me back with her hand so she can swirl her hot little tongue around my shaft, licking me from my ass to my balls and all the way up my pulsing cock until I fist my hands in her hair and push my hips forward, driving myself back into the delicious wet heat of her mouth.
I watch us in the mirror, her naked body bowed in the chair as I slide in and out of her mouth, and it’s erotic as hell. My hands are on her breasts, toying with her nipples, and before long her fingers slip between her soaking lips again. I hold off coming until I see her body tense as her own orgasm begins to rise. Just as she’s about to come, I grab her wrist and hold it, denying her pleasure. She bites down on me and I come harder than I can ever remember coming, spurting a jet of hot seed into her mouth. She swallows it all, still licking her lips long after I pull out of her mouth.
“You bit me!”
“You deserved it!” she retorts.
“That’s it!” I say with a growl, scooping her up out of the chair and throwing her over my shoulder. “You’re going to pay for that.”
She laughs, that low, husky chuckle of hers, and I inexplicably feel like I’m finally home.
Her laughter fades as I toss her onto the bed and brace myself over her, pulling off the blindfold and kissing her slowly and deeply.
“I want to see your eyes on me the next few times you come.”
“What? I probably can’t come again!” she says incredulously.
“Oh, you will,” I say definitively. “But first...a lesson in manners. You know, it’s not nice to bite.”
“Sometimes it’s very nice,” she counters teasingly.
“Sometimes it is,” I agree as I lean down to sink my teeth into the sweet meaty bit of her where the curve of her ass meets the crease of her thigh, precariously close to her pussy. She squeals and squirms.
“Now where was I…?” I ask, planting soft little kisses over her torso and breasts, interspersing the sweet kisses with a few savage bites. “Oh, yes. A lesson.”
She watches, wide-eyed, as I get up and retrieve a small plug and a small bottle of lube from my bag and set it down on the bed next to her.
“I, um, I don’t want that.”
“I didn’t ask if you did. Roll over onto your stomach.”
Despite her protests, she immediately complies. Submissive through and through. I smile as I trail my finger lightly down her spine, over her cleft, and between her cheeks, lightly pressing against the tight little muscle hidden there. Her breath comes out in a hiss.
“Tell me you don’t want this.” She doesn’t answer. I spread her cheeks firmly and trickle lube over her puckered little rosebud of an asshole. “You have exactly five seconds to tell me no or this plug is going in your ass.”
Her breath is coming in labored little gasps but she doesn’t say anything, and I drag the plug through her soaked pussy before slowly pushing the flared bullet into her.
“Oh, fuck!” She clenches her cheeks together as it breaches her intimately.
“Easy, sweetheart.” I rub my hand over the curve of her ass and stroke up her back, massaging her neck until she starts to relax. Then I drive it home, her body accepting the intrusion as it passes her sphincter muscle and settles deeply inside her.
My body covers hers, cocooning her in my embrace as I breathe in her ear. “How is that?”
“Good,” she says breathlessly. “I think. It feels so big, like I’m stuffed full. But it’s kind of hot in a forbidden and tantalizing sort of way.”
“That’s my girl,” I murmur. Fuck. In my heart, she will always be my girl. I slowly kiss down the length of her torso before turning her over onto her back again. She groans as the motion moves the plug inside of her. Her eyes meet mine and the trust in them squeezes at my heart.
I take my time with her, letting her adjust to the feel of the plug stretching her as I play with her breasts and stroke her skin. I move lower, sliding my hand over her pussy. It’s slick and wet. I finger her clit and she wriggles, moving the plug. She groans.
“That’s it,” I say, tapping her clit lightly with my fingers before flicking it lightly. “Moan for me baby.”
Five minutes later, she’s screaming my name as she comes, her body constricting as the orgasm ripples through her.
I pull the next orgasm from her fairly easily, using my tongue to lick and probe as I slide the plug in and out of her ass. The next one requires more patience. She begs me to stop as I firmly stroke the sides of her labia, careful to avoid her now overly sensitized clit.
“Please. Let me catch my breath,” she begs.
“Not a chance, sweetheart,” I say with a low chuckle. “Hold onto the headboard and don’t let go or I’ll spank you and start all over again.” I smile wickedly. “Or you can beg me to tie you there so you don’t have the option to disobey.”
Her eyes widen, but she raises her arms and wraps her fingers around the spindles of the headboard.
“Tie me here. Please,” she says, her voice hoarse with desire.
I happily do as she asks, using a length of rope to lash her wrists to the headboard. Pushing her legs up so they’re bent at the knees, I grab a pair of restraints and fasten them around her thighs. Spreading her wide, I secure the straps that are attached to the thigh cuffs to either side of the bed so she’s held completely open and accessible to me, unable to close her legs. I check her face for any sign of fear or distress, but her eyes have darkened to a deep amber and her sweet little pussy is dripping. Damn, she’s perfect.
I start with the vibrator on low, pressed up against her clit as I slip one, then two, then three fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out ruthlessly. Her body grows taut and her back arches as she comes again, her fingers gripping the headboard so hard that her knuckles are white. I turn the vibrator to medium and she bucks under me, trying to escape the persistent hum of the vibrator, but I have no intention of stopping or letting her recover. Using my fingers to relentlessly penetrate her and the wand to tease her clit, I push her into one orgasm after another until neither one of us can tell where one ends and another begins.
She wants to beg me to stop but she’s beyond speech, beyond rational thought. Her body is exhausted, her control destroyed. Turning off the vibrator, I position my cock at her entrance.
“One more, gattina,” I say.
She shakes her head wildly. “No, Marcus. Please.”
But this is the orgasm I want. The last one, the one she doesn’t want to have, when her reserve is spent and her body is limp with pleasure—the one that’s cloaked in surrender.
I slip my cock into her drenched opening. With the plug in her ass, she’s impossibly tight, and if she hadn’t milked me once already tonight, I’d have come from the first tight grip of her pussy around me. I thrust in and out, slowly at first as she becomes accustomed to the fullness of my cock pushing against the plug.
Against her will, her body responds again, and I can feel her core begin to tighten.
“Untie my hands!” she pleads. “I want to touch you.”
I reach up and untie the rope, wanting the feel of her arms around me as much as she does. She clutches my shoulders as she tries to pull me closer, her nails digging into my skin as I drive into her, possessing her. We send each other higher, our joining so much more than sex. It’s primal and all-consuming, and when we both come, it’s raw and primitive, a coming together that’s profoundly simple in its perfect rightness.
Afterward, her thighs are shaking as I untie her. I hold her in my arms and hand her a cold bottle of water, insisting that she drink it al
l. She’s exhausted—utterly depleted—and as soon as I pull the covers around us, she snuggles into my chest and promptly falls asleep. God, I love the way she nestles into me. I stave off sleep until the first fingers of dawn light sky, content to simply hold her in my arms as I memorize every feature, the beat of her heart and the cadence of her breath, not wanting to miss a minute. But sleep, like all endings, is inevitable, and I finally close my eyes.
Chapter Eight
Ariana
I wake up before Marcus does, and I take advantage of the opportunity to really look at him without those bone-melting eyes of his watching me back, making me forget all rational thought. God, I’ve missed him. He’s beautiful, and I can’t help but touch him, smoothing one dark, thick eyebrow with the tip of my finger, savoring the feel of the scruff of his beard as it scrapes against my palm, and finally, bending over to trace his gorgeous full lips with my tongue.
He wakes up seamlessly, not even opening his eyes before he starts kissing me, his tongue stroking mine as his fingers thread in my hair. He rolls onto his back and lifts me effortlessly onto his impressively thick and ready cock. I’m already wet for him, and he slides into me smoothly. I move up and down on him slowly, guided by his hands on my hips, until our bodies are perfectly in sync, moving together as one.
This isn’t a lust-filled coupling fueled by hours of boundary-pushing play, or a quick fuck. This is lovemaking—pure, intense, beautiful and more sacred than anything I’ve ever experienced before. As I begin to feel that quick drawing in at my core, he grips me tighter, his fingers digging into my hips. His thighs tense as his thumb grazes my clit and he presses lightly. I clench my sex around him, and with a cry, we come together in an explosion of shared passion so beautiful that I feel tears of sheer wonder inexplicably gather in my eyes.
Afterwards, he tucks me against his chest and we talk about serious things and trivial things that still give us a glimpse into each other’s world—from my father’s death to our favorite movies—until his breathing becomes even and I realized he’s fallen asleep again. I snuggle closer to him, acutely aware of the feel of his hand possessively cupping my breast and the warm solid feel of his chest against my back. I close my eyes, trying to drink it all in before it disappears.
