by Tess Lamont
She held his palm to her breast. Through the thin cotton, he could feel her nipple’s hard extension. He brushed it with his thumb. Her soft moan, mewed across his slick finger, was almost the final straw.
…almost, but not quite.
He pulled his finger from her lips and cupped her face. Tenderly, he kissed the softness of her parted lips. Her tongue swirled around his, stoking his lust.
Peaches… Ha! She tasted better than summer fruit. He wanted to flood every sense she had—taste, smell, touch, sound, and sight—until she gasped and moaned with needs only his cock could satisfy.
He worked her mouth more urgently, more deeply. He probed with his kisses, grazing her lips with his teeth. He tilted her head until her jaw opened wide and still he ground down in intimate challenge.
The harder he kissed, the closer she strained.
His cock throbbed and twitched in his jeans, but he wasn’t ready to take her up on her offer. Not yet. First, he’d make her drunk with urgency. He wanted her to beg, not ask sweetly, for his cock. He didn’t stop kissing her until she went limp in his arms.
He ran a knuckle down her cheek.
“You’ve been a very good girl,” he said, breathless, “but I set the pace, remember?”
She blushed and nodded. Playing master felt natural, right. He bent and kissed her forehead, pleased by the way her eyes stayed closed and her face relaxed with trust.
He could have her, take her, in any way he wanted. “Take off your dress.”
She held his gaze as she rose to her knees. She had to wiggle a little to get her dress up. Her breasts swayed freely, seductively as she pulled the dress off over her head.
Jillian. Naked.
He swallowed.
They’d skinny-dipped as teens, but the dark night had concealed everything he craved, and he had been, then, too shy to ask. He was not shy anymore.
He drank his fill of her body…from mussed hair to the pink panties still binding her thighs. Her tits were small but in perfect form. Her taut nipples tilted slightly upward. Hers were nipples formed to be touched, suckled. He wanted her to arch so he could see them even better.
He sat up on his shins, matching her kneel. He took both of her arms and pinned them at the small of her back. He tugged downward on her wrists, forcing her breasts out and up while his pulse drummed, slow but building, at his throat’s base.
Yes. His Jillie. His. Now. Forever.
He wet the skin at her neck’s lower curve with a soft, lingering kiss while kneading her breast. He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling it like candy. Her moans betrayed her growing frustration…a sound he could enjoy all night.
He sucked, nipped, and teased, knowing she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, do a thing to stop him.
****
She groaned and shivered, suspended in the bliss his touch created. While a part of her longed for another sweet release, an even bigger part of her simply wanted his cock in her mouth.
Since when did I get so slutty?
His teeth grazed her nipple. Her pussy clenched. She threw her head back and cried out, fierce and guttural.
He spread his lips, smiling against her skin. He ran his tongue one last time over the tip of her throbbing nipple before releasing her from his delightful torture. He nudged her panties down to where her knees met the floor, and then stood, placing his foot between her legs and over the fabric of her panties’ crotch.
“Time for a change in venue.” He offered her his hand.
His gaze burned against her cheeks as she stood less gracefully than she intended. His foot ensured her underwear remained on the floor. He was fully clothed, and she, completely naked. She liked the way her nakedness made her feel open and vulnerable.
She grasped his warm fingers and allowed him to lead her up the spiral stairs to the balcony. She examined the way his ass filled out his jeans and smiled.
She stepped onto the landing as he flung open his door. Hesitantly, she peered inside his private domain. His old-fashioned brass bed was topped with a plain black comforter. He had two end tables, and a small dresser with a mirror. The effect was spartan and definitely male, but soothing in its lack of pretense.
And…his room was both neat and clean. He cares for what is his and, tonight, I am his. Excitement and anticipation danced on her skin.
Still holding her with one hand, he led her to the bedside table, opened a drawer and produced a crumpled tie.
“It’s got a few snags, so I don’t wear it anymore. But, recycling is a virtue, no?” He wiggled his eyebrows before sliding the drawer shut with his knee and pivoting in search. “Now…where?”
Her knees weakened with just the thought of being tied and she almost sank to the floor. She glanced to the straight brass bars framing his bed.
“The footboard?” she suggested.
He tilted his head, grinned and yanked her to his side. He clutched her aching ass and she yelped. She lurched toward him, feeling his stiff cock against her belly.
“You’re fantastic,” he murmured, before bending her back until her knees buckled. She clung to his neck as he kissed her so deeply, she couldn’t breathe.
Pain and pleasure—need and desire—melded into one. She craved his dick with a need so fierce she could barely swallow. She reveled in her nakedness, ready to serve in any capacity.
He told her to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed, facing away from the footboard. She did, placing her wrists behind her back. He kissed the top of her head and went to work.
Silk caressed her skin as he wove the tie around and between her wrists. His tie was the only thing touching her but for the softness of the carpet beneath her shins. Like an instrument ready to be played, her body curved into a sensuous bow when he fastened her bound wrists to the base of the footboard.
“Pull, Jillian. I want to see how much you can move.”
She wiggled her hands. To her surprise, she could barely move at all. She yanked harder, feeling her breasts swing.
“I can’t get out.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” she said, unable to hide a smile.
He raised his brows and puckered his lips. She flinched as he flicked her thigh with his forefinger.
“No, what?”
“No, sir.”
Again, he had her exactly where she longed to be: part curious, part nervous, and fully fucking aroused.
“Now, what were you begging to do earlier…?”
As he unbuckled his belt, she stopped hearing him speak. She heard, instead, the clink of his belt’s metal and the scraping sound of taut leather. Fleetingly, she imagined his belt snapping against her ass. She quivered between her legs. Quickly, she regained her focus. This time was going to be all about him.
Tonight, she was, at last, alive with raw desire. She wanted his cock everywhere—she wanted to take him in every way possible. Even then, she wasn’t sure it would be enough.
He thrust his pelvis forward as he raised his arms to remove his shirt. His bulge stopped within inches of her mouth. She sucked in her bottom lip and bit, almost writhing with impatience.
He cast his shirt aside and smiled. “Eager little thing, aren’t you? I never would have guessed.”
She narrowed her eyes and strained toward him as far as her binds would allow. “Bull. You always knew I was hot for you.”
He laughed. “I might have guessed. I might have even hoped. But I never knew for certain. And, your sass is gonna cost you later. That is, unless you work your mouth hard enough to make me forget.”
He placed a finger into her mouth. She sucked and shuddered.
“Patience, Jillie. Wait for the real thing.” He tugged off his jeans and boxers and flung them both to his side.
“All yours,” he said, smirking.
His stiff, bulging cock jutted out, gently bouncing. His musky male scent left her heady and warm. She stretched her bindings until her fingers tingled and reverently rubbed her cheek against his member�
��s soft skin. His body convulsed and he groaned, thrusting his groin toward her mouth. She parted her lips and took in his cock’s head. Closing her eyes, she sucked.
Feeling sexual and naughty, she pushed her lips down, licking figure eights on the bottom of his shaft as she took him almost to the back of her throat. Then, she slid the firm ring of her lips backward.
He was just the right size for her mouth: not so big her jaw would lock, but big enough to make her work for it. Again and again she repeated the gyration, freeing her mind and relaxing her jaw. She read his pleasure in his hips small, involuntary jerks.
She was tied to his bed, ass burning with his punishment, but filled with goddess-like ecstasy. She possessed all the power she could ever desire…the power to make him frantic with yearning, the power to seize his lust and become the sole focus of his attention.
She opened her mouth and wiggled her tongue, pretending to release him. His displeased growl sent a shivering thrill through her legs. She arched upward, brushing her tingling nipples against his thighs. The silken pull of her bindings reminded her not to seek too much of her own pleasure. As if to emphasize the point, his hand cradled the back of her head and forced her to stay put.
She lowered her lashes and licked around his bulb’s edge, then, she grazed her teeth, ever so lightly, over his head.
He rasped, hoarse and impassioned. His pleasure became her ecstasy, transforming a standard cock-sucking into something more like a ritual.
She ran her tongue down his shaft toward its base. She inhaled before darting her tongue up and down his balls. The skin of his sack supplied a new and odd sensation—rough and malleable—but the guttural noises he made spurred her to more explicit exploration. She sucked, swishing her tongue in every direction. Before she lost breath, she shimmied her way back to the tip, inhaled and took him full into her mouth.
She pumped him in and out, faster and faster until he was bent and gasping.
“Jillie, I need to pull out.” His voice was gravelly and rough.
She made a rasping sound of protest and tightened her lips. In and out and in and out, she swayed. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to taste him, every last drop.
“Jil, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come in your mouth…”
Giving silent permission, she sucked his shaft so far back into her throat she wouldn’t have any choice but to swallow when he came. His hand locked her into place, and his balls pulsed against her lips.
He burst in mindless quakes. She drank his tart, salty cum and swallowed as he called out her name. She waited for his passion to subside with a smile on her lips and heat in her belly.
****
Eric was lightheaded. He hadn’t planned to shoot his load so soon, but he’d never forget the feel of Jillie convulsively swallowing around his cock. She’d had taken him so deep in her throat that he thought she might gag. He’d never been deep-throated before.
Still, he shouldn’t have acted so green. He’d meant to save his cream for a proper fucking. In utter exhaustion, he collapsed onto the floor. He leaned back on his elbows to admire his Jil. Her lips were smeared with saliva and the remnants of semen. Her hair clung to her cheeks in sweaty disarray.
She was gorgeous, tied like a naughty harem wench, stretched and bent with a small flush of triumph dusting her skin. He wanted to savor this image—Jillie as his beautiful little serf. He wasn’t ready to end the game. If she was, he’d just have to convince her otherwise.
She strained against his tie. She wanted to be released. Fat chance. He stood.
“Very good, Jil.”
He stroked her head and then strode without even a hint of modesty toward the bathroom.
“Sir?” she queried. Then, a little louder, “Eric?”
He smiled as he closed the bathroom door. Ah, let her wiggle a bit.
A wedding, a spanking, two orgasms given and one received. So much for a good day’s work. He washed his hands, running cool water over his still-smarting palm. He cupped his hand and splashed cooling dampness into his hair and onto his neck. He shook his head at his refection.
You know you’re hot. And, that hint of grey in your hair only makes you look better.
He chuckled. Somehow, his salt-and-pepper hair didn’t bother him as much anymore.
Since he’d moved back to Jersey last year, he’d resolved to have her. But he’d meant to take his time, to do it right. And, for the last nine months, renovating his house had demanded too much of his attention for him to contemplate romantic strategy. He never would have thought she would end up seducing him.
Jillian had always been unpredictable, but this took the cake.
He turned on the hot water. While he waited for his old water heater to cough up a suitable temperature, he opened his medicine cabinet and looked for something to soothe her blistered butt.
He chose some aloe vera cream he’d bought after a fishing trip had left him with a nasty burn. He soaked two towels in the steaming hot stream of water, then rung them out.
“What the hell, Eric?” she called.
So much for pure submission. He grinned.
Lording over Jil like some depraved, medieval knight made him hot and carnal, but he would never hurt her or even try and break her. He loved her; she was as necessary to his existence as breath. He wasn’t even sure where the scolding he had given her earlier came from. He certainly hadn’t planned it. He frowned into the mirror. How far could they take this? He shrugged off the question. Right now his woman was tied to the foot of his bed and needed some TLC.
“There now,” he called, kicking open the door. “Patience, remember?”
She scowled.
“What’s the problem, Jil?”
“I’m getting cold.” She cast her eyes downward. “I thought you might leave me here, while you took a shower…or something.”
He crouched on his haunches.
“I wasn’t going to leave my good girl for long, especially after she did such a fantastic job.” He wiped her face. “But, you aren’t to question me, remember?”
“Yes.” She swallowed as if there were a lump in her throat. “Sir.”
He cradled her head against his chest and smirked, away from her view.
“I’m going to untie you and then I want you to lie on the bed—on your stomach. Do you understand?”
He released her wrists and she undulated across his sheets exactly as directed and his blood surged. The sight of her glowing red ass made him crazy happy.
Over the years, he’d imagined many different ways to get Jillian into this very bed, but soothing her after a spanking had never been one of them.
Ain’t life grand? He wiped the back of her neck and then he eased the towel down her back. He lifted it and wiped the back of her legs, making sure the towel was cool enough not to cause discomfort by the time he draped it over ass. She gasped, and then sighed.
He crawled onto the bed and leaned onto his elbow, giving time for the warmth to do its work. The towel sagged into her ass crack as she relaxed. He ran an idle hand up her inner thigh, listening to her breathe.
Jillian Louisa Daniels is spread eagle, face down on my bed.
His balls tightened and sparks of a second stirring shot through his groin. Impossible…after only, what, fifteen minutes? He meant to keep her in his bed for quite some time. He wanted to straddle her like a dominant lion and bite into her exposed neck. He shook off the notion: too far.
Clearing his throat, he gently removed the towel and squirted a cool mass of aloe vera into his palm. He kneaded the gel into her smooth, round, wiggling curves.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“Umm hum,” she murmured into the mattress.
Her ass sure felt good to him. And the aloe did double work on his smarting palm. He hoped she wouldn’t want sessions like the one they shared earlier too often, or he’d have to start using implements. After all, his palm had a hell of a lot less cushioning than her ass.
He let h
is hand glide into the darkness of her crack. He shook his head. She was wet and ready, again. Her ass may not be able to take the friction, but her body was aching for release.
He glanced down at his dick, already at half-mast. He flopped onto his back and placed his hands behind his head. Would he ever get enough of her? He wasn’t sure.
“Straddle me, love,” he murmured. “When you are ready.”
She stretched to her side and smiled seductively. A sight that made his cock tingle and his chest tighten. She rose to her knees and flung her leg over his thigh. Her shy eyes were submissive, yet coy.
He traced her breasts with his fingertips, painting slow, spiraling twirls.
“Do you know what I think?” he asked.
“No, but I’ll bet your mind is in the gutter.”
He swatted her rump, very lightly. “Sass!”
“Ow!” she yelped, shivering throughout her body.
He rolled her nipple between the tips of his fingers, locking his eyes on hers.
“I think that your nipples are so sensitive…”
Her thighs squeezed as he continued to rub her breasts.
“…I bet you could come by stimulation here alone.” He feigned a lazy, academic interest. “What do you think?”
“Umm,” she moaned, “I don’t think so. I think I’ll just get wetter and wetter.” She closed her eyes and parted her lips.
He burned that image of her into his mind. “Let’s try.”
“No…it’s too much.”
He raised a brow and frowned.
She sighed. “Yes, sir.”
Desire flashed across the curve of her lips. He taught himself her preferences by noting which rubs and pinches caused small, involuntary jerks of her thighs. He nibbled and licked his way around one darkened nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger.
“Eric, sir. Oh, God, please…please…” she whined. “I need your cock.”
He smiled and focused on her shivering lower lip. He squeezed her nipples until she wailed with frustrated need. The sound sliced through his stomach.
He wanted to fuck…now. He couldn’t massage both his testicles and her breasts, so he abandoned his nipple torture experiment to another day.
